


The Great Inevitable

by WinterRose527



Series: I was just wondering what you're doing (for the rest of your life) [3]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, anti-roslin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:24:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18665881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRose527/pseuds/WinterRose527
Summary: This will tell Robb and Myrcella's story, starting the night of Sansa's hospitalisation.





	1. Chapter 1

The lights were too bright in the hospital, he couldn’t see a thing. He’d left his car somewhere, he wasn’t entirely sure where. He had his keys, he was clenching them in his hand, but he didn’t even know if he had shut his door.

 

He ran to the reception desk, “Sansa, Sansa Stark, where is she?”

 

“Sir, only immediate -“

 

“I’m her brother,” he interrupted, “Where is she?”

 

The woman sighed and looked at her chart, “Room 203, just one flight up and it is your second door on the right but -“

 

Whatever warning she wanted to give him, he didn’t want to know. If things were somehow even more serious than his mother had been able to tell him on the phone then he didn’t want to know. He wanted to live another few seconds without that knowledge.

 

He hated this hospital, it was the hospital where his grandmother and grandfather died. Where his father died.

 

It was also the hospital where he and each of his siblings were born, but with Rickon already eighteen years old, it had been some time since he associated it with the happy feeling of a new addition to the family.

 

He got on the elevator and noticed that the other people in it gave him a wide berth. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered except for the sweet girl, his first sibling, his best friend, lying in a bed with wounds to her abdomen and ribs and jaw.

 

Wounds he could have stopped. Wounds he should have stopped.

 

He got off on the second floor and turned to his right and saw Rickon and Bran sitting in the chairs outside of a room. They looked so young, he still remembered how they looked the night his father died.

 

Bran sat stoically, staring straight ahead, Rickon a ball of nerves, his leg rattling.

 

It was he that turned first and he let out a ragged breath and then his youthful face crumbled and he started to cry.

 

Bran turned then and said simply, “Robb.”

 

At the sound of his name a girl, standing in the middle of the hallway turned around. There was blood on her cheek and on the white satin pajama set she was wearing underneath her wool coat. She was wearing a pair of running shoes too. They weren’t even hers, they were Sansa’s. She kept them in their front hall closet.

 

She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it once again, turning away from him and sitting down next to Rickon and wrapping her arms around him. His little brother let out a sob as he gripped her tiny arms. He dwarfed her completely but she was rocking him gently, whispering something in his ear that made him nod.

 

She’d been the one that had found her. Her roommate and best friend. Her soulmate, really.

 

He looked at her, really looked at her. She looked pale, and weak. He knew that she had been home sick the past couple of days with a bad case of strep throat.

 

He walked towards them all and placed his hand on Bran’s head, stroking his hair. His quite little brother grabbed hold of his wrist.

 

“I’m here,” he told him.

 

It was the same thing he’d told Sansa when he’d met them all at the hospital when their father died. And just like Sansa, Bran let out a sob, giving up his duties as the eldest Stark child present, and allowing himself to be a boy terrified for his beloved older sister.

 

He sat down in the chair next to Bran and pulled him against his chest. His gaze wandered over to Ella, who was still rocking Rickon.

 

“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, “I was home, I should have heard but I had my humidifier going and - I just… I am _so_ sorry.”

 

Ella’s room was on the third floor of their townhouse, to his knowledge everything that had happened had taken place on the first. There was no way she would have heard even if she hadn’t been in a dead sleep with a noisy machine on.

 

And if she had, she may be lying in a hospital bed next to Sansa at this very moment.

 

He hadn’t thought anything else would ever hurt again, but that thought did.

 

His mother had been able to tell him a little bit of what happened. Ella had woken up and come downstairs to make some tea, and Ramsay, unaware of her illness, or that she was home at all, got spooked and rather than beat two girls nearly to death, left Sansa lying on the floor and ran out the front door. Ella had found Sansa unconscious and called the ambulance, was able to wake her up without moving her, kept her talking until the paramedics came.

 

In short, she’d saved her life. Not that she’d ever see it that way.

 

His greedy eyes ran over her once again, now that he’d considered the possibility of her being harmed he found himself needing to be assured that she wasn’t. She was almost deathly pale, with purple circles under her eyes, her nose rimmed in red. There was blood on her cheek and her hair was limp.

 

She’d always been a beauty, but she had never been prettier than she was in this moment. And there was no thank you in the world that could encompass everything he wanted to say to her.

 

He reached across his brothers and tried to wipe the blood from her cheek, but it had dried and stayed there stubbornly. He felt her lean into his touch, if he wasn’t so attuned to her, if he hadn’t been so horribly aware of her ever since he’d gone into puberty, he might have missed it. But he was, so he didn’t, and he cupped her cheek in his hand.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said.

 

It was the absolute truth, but so very little of it that it might as well have been a lie.

 

***

 

“Robb?!,” they heard a frightened voice, trying to be brave, shout.

 

None of them had moved in a long while, but all the Stark boys rose as they heard their sister. She ran forward and jumped into Robb’s arms, but she was soon enveloped by all her brothers - each of them desperate to hold onto and protect the only sister they could in that moment.

 

Ella was going to stand but was wrenched out of her chair in the next moment into the strongest pair of arms she knew.

 

“Gendry,” she tried to breathe.

 

He set her down and his blue eyes inspected her, tilting her cheek up to the light.

 

“Are you hurt? Did that fucker _hurt_ you?,” he demanded.

 

She shook her head and he looked her over as though she might be lying. When he seemed satisfied that she wasn’t in fact harmed, he pulled her into his arms once again. She burrowed into his chest, hiding from the world for a moment, and she felt his hand on the back of her head, stroking her hair.

 

“It’s really bad,” she said into his chest.

 

“She’s going to be alright,” he promised and she nodded, though there was no way he could know. “She’s a fighter, she’s going to fight through this. I promise you that.”

 

She nodded, swallowing down the sob she felt in her throat. She wouldn’t cry, this wasn’t about her and it would be like admitting defeat. She would be strong for Sansa.

 

She turned her head and looked at the Starks. Robb had his arms around all of them. He looked so tall and broad - so like his father, though in looks he’d always favoured the other side of his family. He looked over at her, as though he felt her gaze, and she saw his eyes were rimmed in red. She would be strong for him too.

 

Arya’s head popped into a hole of her brothers’ arms, which would have been comical in any other circumstance, and her lower lip trembled. She fought her way out of them and Ella pushed Gendry as gently as she could, and then their arms were around each other.

 

“Where is he?,” Arya seethed in her ear.

 

Ella’s gaze wandered up to Robb’s, she knew that he’d heard and she’d seen his ears perk.

 

“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.

 

Robb’s jaw clenched, as though he knew that’s what she’d say even if it weren’t true.

 

“I’m going to kill him,” Arya swore.

 

“No,” Robb shook his head, “You’re not. _I_ am.”

 

“Robb,” she chastised.

 

As soon as she’d called the ambulance and gotten Sansa talking, she’d grabbed the fire poker and held it in case Ramsay came back. She’d even found herself half hoping than he would. That would have been self defence though - even if she’d relished in it.

 

What he was talking about though was murder, premeditated. And there was no part of him that was bluffing.

 

She let go of Arya and grabbed Robb and pulled him down the hall.

 

“You know, don’t you?,” he asked her, turning her around, his eyes were like wildfire, “You know where he is.”

 

She shook her head, “Of course I don’t! But if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

 

“It’s _Sansa_!,” he growled at her.

 

“Don’t you think I know that? Robb the way that I found her, the - the, the…,” she stopped herself, taking a deep breath and forcing the tears back down as visions of Sansa, twisted into an impossible shape, blood surrounding her, the sounds of Lady crying and clawing outside, swarmed her head. Her voice was an octave lower when she’d started speaking again, “I will never forget it - I will _dance_ on his grave - but you will not send him to it.”

 

“He hurt my family,” he said, his voice softer, his stance now protective rather than aggressive.

 

“He hurt mine too,” she reminded him. Sansa was just as much her sister as she was his and everyone knew it. “But they are your family too, and they need you. Now more than ever, maybe. Not just to be there for them, but to set an example for them.” He still didn’t look convinced and the thought of him in the same room as that psychopath made her dizzy with fear, an ice cold chill - as though she were having a premonition - ran down her spine. She couldn’t let it happen. She just couldn’t. She stood on her tip toes and grabbed his cheeks in her hands, “Hear me, and hear me well - she is your sister and mine and he could have killed her. This debt will be paid.” He started to shake his head but she held him more firmly, forcing his gaze to hers, “Hey - it _will_ be paid, but not tonight, not in anger, not in reaction. He will suffer for this as she suffers now. Do you believe me?”

 

His blue eyes bore into hers and she thought that he might argue with her further, but he merely nodded. He may have been doing it to appease her, but she doubted it. They had always trusted one another.

 

His eyes were still locked onto hers and she realised how close their faces were to one another, and that at some point he had started gripping her wrists. His eyes filled with tears and so did hers and his hands started sliding down her arms and hers stared moving around his neck but then they heard a frantic voice beside them.

 

“Oh _Robb_ ,” a beautiful girl cried. She dropped her hands immediately but Robb didn’t, so she turned, still in Robb’s grasp, towards his girlfriend, Roslin. She was dressed in what looked to be club attire and her eye make up was smudged. She shook her head and a sob left her diminutive body, “It’s just so _awful_.”

 

With that she rushed towards him and Ella stepped back just in time, as Robb caught her to him. He hugged her as she whimpered and Ella dug her nails into her palms. The idea that Roslin would make Robb comfort _her,_ when it was _his_ sister in the hospital was infuriating.

 

She was about to turn away anyway, because she couldn’t bear to watch, when she felt the mood change.

 

Robb’s eyebrows raised and she turned around and saw Catelyn Stark walking out of her daughter’s hospital room. She looked like she’d aged a decade in the past few hours.

 

“Mom?,” Rickon asked.

 

Catelyn nodded, “She’s going to be okay. In time.”

 

“Can we see her?,” Bran asked.

 

Catelyn shook her head, “No, she doesn’t want to see anyone just yet… Except you, dear.”

 

Catelyn was looking right at her and her lip started trembling. She bit it to make it stop and Catelyn crossed to her. She hadn’t realised how near the desk she was standing until Catelyn grabbed a tissue and put some anti-bacterial on it and wiped her cheek. She hadn’t realised she had blood on it until then.

 

“Robb, or Arya should…,” she said softly.

 

“She’s asking for you,” she said quietly. Ella shook her head, it wasn’t right. Catelyn looked at her though, with Robb’s eyes. Sansa’s eyes. “You’ve already seen her, they haven’t. I… I don’t think she can _bear_ it, you see… I just -“

 

“Of course,” she nodded.

 

Catelyn kissed her forehead and she walked towards the room. She turned towards Robb and he nodded at her once, and she nodded at him and opened the door.

 

Sansa lay in bed, and she looked so small. Thankfully though, she didn’t have too many tubes in her.

 

“Nice outfit,” Sansa croaked.

 

“You too,” she nodded towards her hospital gown.

 

Sansa gave her a close mouthed smile, and Ella gave her the same, and then Sansa’s face crumbled.

 

She kicked off Sansa’s running shoes and climbed as gingerly as she could onto the bed. She lay down next to her on her side, and Sansa turned her face to hers, tears streaming down it.

 

“You saved me,” she cried.

 

“If I had saved you, you wouldn’t be lying here right now,” Ella argued, “I _failed_ you.”

 

Sansa shook her head, “No, I failed you.” Ella furrowed her brow and Sansa said, “I should have listened to you. All those months ago. You told me, you warned me.”

 

“I didn’t know he was capable of this,” Ella said and then assured her, “None of us did.”

 

“I did,” Sansa said hollowly.

 

“He’s… done it before?,” Ella asked. Sansa looked at her with guilt in her eyes, and Ella felt tears flooding her own. “How many times?”

 

“Three,” Sansa said.

 

It was too much, she couldn’t take it, she wasn’t strong. She was a fool. And a terrible friend.

 

The sob that had been threatening her finally took control and she let out a horrified wail. Sansa met it with her own.

 

Ella leaned her forehead against Sansa’s as gently as she could and held her hand.

 

“I’m sorry,” they told each other, again and again, until they both fell asleep.

 

***

 

It was late. Everyone else had gone home. He couldn’t though.

 

He’d been waiting out in the hall for hours before he finally opened the door. There were two girls asleep, hands clasped, foreheads touching. For a moment it looked sweet, they made an angelic pair.

 

But then he saw Sansa’s cheek, and her gown had shifted and he could see one of her bandages, and when he looked closely he saw tears dried on Ella’s cheeks, her face frowning even in sleep.

 

He closed the door as quietly as he could and sat down in the chair closest to Sansa.

 

Ella’s eyes popped open and her hand went immediately out in front of her, in front of Sansa, her body lifting to cover her.

“It’s me, it’s Robb,” he promised.

 

“Robb?,” she asked, her hand reaching.

 

He took her small one in his, and he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.

 

“Mom wants her to stay at Winterfell for a little while when she gets out,” he informed her. She nodded in the darkness. “But when she’s recovered, and she wants to go back home… I’d like to stay with you guys. Until he’s taken care of, anyway.”

 

“You’re always welcome, you know that,” she said, “But the police are already looking for him.”

 

“Hopefully they’ll find him soon,” he lied.

 

“Yeah,” she agreed, though it sounded like a lie as well.

 

“El?,” he wondered.

 

“This debt…,” she started but then she stopped herself. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed his back and yawned. “I’ll stay with her, if you want to go get some sleep.”

 

“No chance of that,” he said, he wasn’t sure he’d ever sleep again. “Sleep, sweetheart, she’s safe. You’re safe.”

 

She yawned and nodded and she shifted slightly and he could tell that she had closed her eyes. Her hand started going limp in his, but he didn’t want to let it go, so he moved the chair closer to the bed.

 

“Sweetheart,” she all but murmured. “I’d like that.”

 

“Like what?,” he wondered.

 

“To be…”

 

He had no idea what she was talking about, and if it were any other time he might jostle her hand, ask again, press her for details. But her breath steadied and the only sound was the beep of the machine, telling him that his sister was alive.

 

For tonight, that was more than enough.


	2. Chapter 2

“Of course, I’ll have that work pulled for your viewing tomorrow,” she said into the phone as she opened the front door of her house. “No it isn’t a problem at all, please Mrs. Hornwood don’t be silly, it’s my pleasure. Of course… of course… of course… yes to you as well.”

 

She closed the front door and leaned her head back against it. It was almost 9:30, it had been a long day. She slipped her work phone back into her bag, determined not to look at it again until the morning and took a deep breath.

 

She felt something wet nuzzling against her hand and grinned when she saw Grey Wind.

 

“Hi puppywuppy,” she cooed at him, stroking his head as she kicked off her shoes, “Did you miss me?”

 

“He’s been pacing,” a deep voice said and she looked up and saw Robb standing there.

 

She still hadn’t quite gotten used to coming home to him. He’d been staying with her and Sansa for a little over two weeks, and in some ways, it felt as though he’d always lived there, while in others - like when she’d seen him doing push ups in the living room early on Sunday morning - it still felt entirely new.

 

He was wearing a pair of brown corduroys and a forest green sweater, holding a glass of red wine in his hand, his feet bare. He looked so beautiful, and at home, and perfectly right standing there in the soft light.

 

Her foolish heart pitter-pattered at the sight of him.

 

“What are you doing?,” she wondered, though, because it seemed odd he wasn’t sitting in the kitchen catching up on emails or in the living room.

 

“It’s 9:30,” he said and her eyes met his, “You’re usually home earlier.”

 

So Grey Wind was not the only one who had been pacing.

 

She turned away from him, because that meant everything to her and nothing to him, and took off her coat and placed it on a hanger in the front hall closet, pushing her heels in there as well and setting her bag on one of the hooks.

 

“Big auction tomorrow,” she explained, “We’ve been having a lot of top clients in to see the works after hours. I got stuck with a chatty one.”

 

She closed the closet door and saw him nod, “You must be starving.”

 

She placed her hand on her stomach, which she knew was empty, but shook her head, “I’m not, actually. I don’t seem to have much of an appetite these days.”

 

“I know,” he said quietly. Her brow furrowed and then he shook his head, “Wine?”

 

“A thousand times yes,” she nodded and he grinned and lead her into the kitchen.

 

She followed behind, Grey Wind at her side and watched as he went to the cabinet. Wine glasses were on one of the top shelves, she had to use a step stool to get to them, but he was tall enough and reached for one. She could see the muscles in his back when he did, even through his sweater. His body was incredible, made for movement, it always had been, and those pants highlighted his perfect butt.

 

She was still looking when he turned around and she felt her cheeks go scarlet. If he noticed, he didn’t make a big thing of it, which was kind. In truth, all of Sansa’s friends had been in love with him since middle school, so he was probably used to being ogled.

 

He poured her a healthy glass of wine and she stepped forward and took it when he offered it. She forced herself to meet his gaze and found he’d already been looking at her, probably wondering why she was acting so strangely.

 

“I made a fire,” he blurted out.

 

“Man make fire,” she said in a caveman voice.

 

His eyes widened and then he chuckled at her and she grinned back. She picked up the bottle of wine, because one glass wasn’t going to be enough.

 

“Come on then,” she said and headed towards the living room.

 

She placed the wine bottle down on the coffee table as well as her cell phone - her personal one - and tucked her feet up under her as she sat on the couch. She took a sip of wine and let it wash over her tongue. It was one of her favourites, and Robb had seemed to develop a liking for it too.

 

There were two couches and two chairs in their living room, and she had expected that he’d sit on one of the others. So when she felt the couch dip slightly as he eased onto it, she had to start listing Roslin Frey’s greatest qualities to keep herself steady.

 

_Beautiful_

_Fun_

_Sweet - occasionally anyway_

_Beautiful_

 

There were others, she was sure, but she didn’t spend that much time with Roslin. She’d told Robb that he should feel free to have her over whenever, but had been happy that he hadn’t taken her up on it. Sansa still wasn’t up for seeing many people, and she and Roslin had never really clicked. Ella didn’t want her to have to _entertain,_ she just wanted her to focus on getting herself better.

 

And there were other reasons too, but they weren’t relevant.

 

“How did your meeting with Rexxo go?,” she asked him.

 

“Good,” he nodded, “I think they are going to invest a hundred million.”

 

“Woah! I thought you were only asking for fifty,” she clarified.

 

He nodded, excitement brimming in his eyes, “Yeah but they liked the plan so much, they want to do more. There are some ownership things we’d have to sort out, but I think it’s going to go forward. Their attorney, Sam and Dickon’s father, he’s a real…”

 

“Hard ass?,” she offered.

 

She had sold a reasonably low value painting for him last year and the contract negotiations had still taken months. She could imagine how he would be acting with a hundred million on the line.

 

He nodded, “I actually don’t even understand how Sam is related to him.”

 

“Unfortunately I think Mr. Tarly feels the same way…,” she sighed and Robb nodded and took a sip of wine.

 

“There’s still some… never mind you don’t care about this,” he shook his head.

 

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t have asked,” she pointed out.

 

She loved talking to him about his family’s business. He was so passionate about it, and he seemed like he was so _good_ at it. She loved her job, but she knew she didn’t want to stay there forever, and she occasionally relied on him to be her career counsellor. He had talked her through asking for a raise a few months ago, and did such a good job of it that she’d asked for 8% but had gotten 12% instead.

 

 _You know what you’re worth, make it impossible for them to ignore. Make it impossible for_ anyone _to ignore._

 

He looked at her and his eyes crinkled at the sides, reminding her of his father, and he said, “I’m just a bit afraid of giving up some of the reigns in this to a third party, you know? I think I have to make it non-negotiable that-“

 

He stopped talking when her cell phone started buzzing on the coffee table. He was closer to it so he reached and grabbed it and went to hand it to her. His eyes fell to the caller ID though and his brow furrowed.

 

“Trystane is calling you?,” he asked. “I thought you broke up like a year ago…”

 

“We did,” she said, grabbing her phone and hitting ignore and placing it back on the coffee table.

 

After a moment it started buzzing again and she took a sip of wine and opened her mouth to ask him what was going to be a non-negotiable when he asked, “Does he call a lot?”

 

She sighed, “When he’s drunk, yes.”

 

Robb’s jaw clenched, “Do you want him to stop?”

 

“Robb,” she rolled her eyes.

 

“I’m serious, Ella, he’s _harassing_ you,” he practically growled.

 

“No he is not,” she shook her head, “He’s just lonely.”

 

His eyes locked onto hers and he said, “And what if you’re wrong?”

 

She looked at him. Really looked at him. His shoulders were tense. He was in a position as though he was getting ready to pounce. His knuckles were white. His eyes wild.

 

He was terrified.

 

She pried the wine glass from his hands and placed it on the table with hers and she got up on her knees and placed her hands on his shoulders.

 

“Trystane is not Ramsay,” she said quietly, but firmly.

 

“We didn’t know Ramsay was Ramsay,” he said quieter, but firmer.

 

She looked into his eyes and saw herself mirrored in them. The fear, the regret, the guilt. She would never forgive herself for what had happened. She had known Ramsay was bad, but she didn’t know how bad until it was too late.

 

And Sansa’s scars would always be a reminder of her ignorance.

 

All the hatred she felt for herself, all the anger, Robb had it too. Not for her though, whom he should have been directing it at, but himself.

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” she told him.

 

“So I’ve been told,” he said in a clipped tone.

 

She shook her head and closed her eyes, “You weren’t _here_ , there was nothing you could have _done_. I’m the one - I… I was _here_ in this house. He was beating her and I was sleeping and I - blame me! Just blame me, just -“

 

“No,” he refused stubbornly. He took her cheeks in his hands and repeated, “No.”

 

Tears slipped out of her eyes and she pushed against his chest, “Blame me. _Hate_ me. I can’t stand this - I can’t take it, stop trying to _protect_ me.”

 

He cupped her face more firmly, “No.”

 

“You have enough on your plate,” she said, avoiding his gaze because she couldn’t stand how he was looking at her. It felt too good, too right to be looked at like that by him, when it was anything but. “You take care of so many people, Robb, your siblings and your Mom and Roslin, and I have Gendry to look after for me. It isn’t your job.”

 

“So I’m just not supposed to care what happens to you?,” he asked hollowly.

 

His hands dropped off of her face and when she looked at him now he looked wounded. Her mouth felt dry and her cheeks felt cold without him holding her and he was looking at her like she’d just broken his heart.

 

“Maybe not this much,” she said, as gently as she could.

 

His eyes trailed over her, hovering on her lips, and then under her eyes, frowning slightly when he took in the dark circles she knew were under them, she felt them circling the birthmark under her left eye and then they finally met her gaze once again.

 

She became very aware that she was up on her knees, her hands on his shoulders, their faces only half a foot apart.

 

“Tell me how to stop, then,” he said quietly.

 

“Robb,” she sighed, closing her eyes, because all she wanted was to fall into his lap and feel his lips against hers, to be surrounded by his quiet strength and gentle hands.

 

“Ella,” he breathed out.

 

The sound of his voice sent a chill down her spine and she opened her eyes. His were cloudy and made her breath catch in her throat. He was looking at her like he was starving, and in that moment she craved to be devoured.

 

All at once a blood-curdling scream erupted from upstairs and she shook herself out of whatever trance she had been in and leapt off the couch. Grey Wind was at her heels as she sprinted up the stairs.

 

“Dovey, Dovey, it’s me, you’re dreaming,” she called as gently as she could as she entered the room. Sansa was thrashing on the bed, Lady whimpering at her side. Ella ran to the bed, “Sansa, wake up, wake up, Dovey, it’s just a dream, you’re safe.”

 

She wasn’t entirely sure how but Sansa heard her and blinked her eyes open, “Ella?”

 

“It’s me, I’m here,” she promised, sitting on the bed and pushing some of Sansa’s hair out of her face, “You were just dreaming, you’re safe.”

 

Grey Wind hopped up on the bed and covered Sansa’s legs with his body, and Lady laid her head on her stomach gently, as though she knew that Sansa’s ribs weren’t entirely healed.

 

“He had you,” Sansa cried, “It wasn’t me, it was you, he had you, Ella, he…there was so much blood.”

 

Ella felt a lump in her throat and she stood up and lifted the covers to Sansa’s bed and climbed in beside her.

 

“I’m okay, Dovey, I’m here. I’m safe. You’re safe. We have Lady and Grey Wind and each other and -“

 

“Me,” they heard from the doorway.

 

Sansa tensed at her side but then breathed out a ragged breath. She couldn’t stand to be touched by any men yet, not even Robb who she trusted more than anyone, but Ella knew how much safer she felt with her big brother nearby.

 

He was so patient about it, he never pushed. He was so devoted to his little sister that he gave her whatever she needed, no matter how it made him feel to do so.

 

He took a hesitant step into the room and picked up an arm chair from the corner and brought it over to the side of the bed and sat down in it.

 

“I’m here, Sansa,” he promised.

 

“He had Ella,” she explained.

 

“He won’t ever touch her,” Robb promised in a low voice that made her shiver, “Or you, ever again. I promise. Ella is _safe,_ you don’t have to worry about her.”

 

“If I don’t, who will?,” Sansa scoffed petulantly and Ella smiled, pressing a kiss to her best friend’s forehead.

 

Parts of herself were returning but this was the first instance where she had shown any of the occasional brattiness that Ella had always adored.

 

“Me, Dovey,” Robb said and her gaze found his in the dark. “You can stop worrying about Ella, because I never will.”

 

***

 

“Are you ready?,” he asked.

 

“No,” Ella shook her head.

 

“We can come back another day,” he said, trying to keep the reluctance from his voice.

 

He didn’t want to come back another day. He wanted this to happen today. Now.

 

He wanted it for him, but he wanted it for her too.

 

“No, this happens today. I just… need a minute, is that okay?,” she asked and he nodded.

 

It was a perfect December day, with snow falling softly all around them. Schools in the area would be cancelled tomorrow, and after this they would head out to Winterfell. Sansa was already out there, Gendry had driven her, Grey Wind and Lady this morning, and Theon would be heading there as well. Roslin might be joining, but he hadn’t heard if she wanted them to pick her up on his way.

 

He almost hoped that she wouldn’t, which wasn’t fair. It was just easier, without her there. She never knew what to say to Sansa, and he’d end up splitting his time between her and his family. It wasn’t fair to Roslin, and he knew he should talk to her about it, but he didn’t want to risk anyone upsetting Sansa, not when she’d started to make progress.

 

He looked at Ella and tried not to draw comparisons between them. It was wholly unfair to, but difficult not to all the same. Ella was Sansa’s friend, first and foremost. She was the one who often guided him, especially in the early days. She understood Sansa better than anyone, and it made it easier for all of them.

 

At this point, he was spending more time with Ella than he was Roslin, since he was staying at the girls’ house. Which made things murkier still.

 

Murky, because he knew now what she looked like when she first woke up in the morning, and how she curled in on herself when she fell asleep on the couch reading. Grey Wind insisted on accompanying her on runs, and sometimes if he was feeling industrious enough he’d wake up and join them. They sat up some nights in front of the fire, smoking weed and decompressing from their days as they waited to see if Sansa would have one of her night terrors. She saved him leftovers for lunch and when she’d gotten rip roaring drunk on the anniversary of her father’s death it was him that she’d called to come get her. By the time he’d shown up at The Forge to grab her she’d been winning a game of pool against a group of frat guys. She was laughing but as soon as she saw him her lip started trembling and she said simply, “Take me home.” He’d offered to get a taxi but she’d shaken her head and slipped her hand into his coat pocket and said that she wanted to walk, so he’d wrapped his arm around her - to keep her steady and warm, that’s all, of course - and guided her through the streets.

 

Murky, because the more time he spent with Ella, the more time he wanted to spend with her, and the less he cared about seeing Roslin.

 

So perhaps in the end, it wasn’t all that murky.

 

He looked at Ella now, snowflakes were melting in her hair and she had on a white fuzzy hat and a light blue wool coat. She looked like a snow angel, far too pure for the task in front of them.

 

Her mitten covered hand grabbed his forearm, and even through all their layers he _felt_ it.

 

“I want to go in together,” she said, “Can we? I… I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it alone.”

 

His eyes trailed over her perfect, hopeful face and then narrowed, “Bullshit.”

 

“Ex _cuse_ me?,” she asked.

 

He rolled his eyes, “You’re the strongest person I know, you just don’t trust me.”

 

“I trust you more than anyone!,” she argued and then her jade eyes widened, as though she couldn’t quite believe she’d said that. In truth he couldn’t believe it either and hated the way his heart seemed to swell in his chest even as she backtracked, “I-I mean… I… is it so hard to believe that I need your help?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted, and her eyes bore into his, so he sighed in defeat, “But you have it all the same.”

 

She grinned, “God you’re _easy_. Anyone ever tell you that?”

 

He chuckled, “A couple of sorority girls in college.”

 

She shook her head and he knew she was trying to be annoyed with him, but she let out a giggle of her own.

 

“You’re such a barbarian,” she rolled her eyes, and then turned serious, “Which is only one of the reasons I want to go in together.”

 

He looked at her and nodded, because he knew. She relied on him, just as he relied on her. And though every other thought he had about her made him feel unworthy of that trust, he was determined to be worthy of it now.

 

He wrapped his arm around her, just to reassure her, of course, and said, “You’ll keep me in line, and I’ll keep you safe, how does that sound?”

 

She looked up at him and he could swear her gaze fell to his lips for a brief moment and she said, “Like a disaster waiting to happen.”

 

He could see the snow falling reflected in her eyes and her cheeks were pink from the cold and he could smell the peppermint chapstick she’d put on in the car and all he wanted in the world was to go on staring at her.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he shook himself out of it and grabbed it.

 

_Roslin: It’s too gross to get in the car._

 

_Roslin: Stay in the city with me._

 

_Roslin: You can keep me warm…_

 

So that answered that, Roslin wasn’t coming. He hated himself for feeling relief.

 

_Robb: Sorry, baby, I’ve got to get out there and make sure Mom’s alright, plus I’ve got to take Ella._

 

_Roslin: Doesn’t she have a car? And aren’t all your siblings going to be there?_

 

He sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. He had more important things to worry about in the moment than how to answer that question.

 

“Is Roslin coming out too?,” Ella asked.

 

“She isn’t,” he said.

 

“Oh, well are you staying here? You can drop me off and I’ll grab my car. I’ll take good care of Grey Wind and bring him back with me once the storm passes.”

 

“No, I don’t want you on the roads alone,” he said.

 

“I’m a _great_ driver,” she said and he chuckled. “I am!”

 

“You’re a great driver _in the south_. Don’t you remember that your car broke down last winter because you hadn’t once _used_ it for all of January?,” he asked.

 

She pouted and muttered, “I remembered but I was hoping _you_ didn’t.”

 

His laughter died, because in truth he shouldn’t remember that. He shouldn’t remember half the things he did about her, but memories of her hung like constellations in his mind.

 

“Let’s go in,” she said, “It’s freezing out here and the sooner we do this the sooner we can stop doing it.”

 

He held the door open for her and she stepped inside but waited for him immediately. He glanced at her and she opened her mouth to say something to him but closed it immediately and he felt her small hand take his. Hers was shaking so he squeezed it and started walking, pulling her along with him.

 

He gave their names at the front desk and they were escorted down a long hallway. A guard swiped an ID card and led them into a small room, a window pane in the middle. He pulled out a seat for Ella and she sat down, tugging him down next to her.

 

Her thigh was rattling and he glanced over at her as she took off her hat and stuffed it along with her mittens into her bag. He settled one arm on the chair behind her and placed his hand on her arm.

 

“We can still go,” he told her, “It isn’t too late.”

 

Her eyes glanced behind him, and her leg stopped rattling. She no longer looked scared, she looked murderous.

 

“Actually it is,” she said stoically.

 

He turned towards where she was looking and his blood ran cold. Ramsay Bolton.

 

His skin looked especially pale against the orange of his jump suit, and even in handcuffs he walked with that swagger that had made Robb hate him on sight.

 

He settled into the chair on the opposite side of the glass and picked up the phone so he and Ella did the same.

 

“My old friends come to see me, I _am_ flattered,” he started jovially.

 

He wished that glass wasn’t there. He wanted to feel Ramsay’s face beneath his fists. He wanted to feel the exact moment life left him as he wrapped his hands around his neck.

 

“Prison suits you,” Ella said sweetly, “Which is good, considering you’ll be here for a very long time.”

 

A nervous stab hit him in the stomach as Ramsay turned and focused solely on her. He looked her over and licked his lips, drinking her in.

 

“Myrcella Baratheon,” he groaned, “I always did have a bit of a thing for you. Is it mutual? I can get us a private room…”

 

“I’d like to get you in a private room,” Ella told him, “No cameras. No guards. Just us.”

 

Ramsay’s eyes glittered with amusement and a bit of desire, “Naughty girl.”

 

“I’d like to take my time with you…,” she all but cooed and Robb fought the desire to turn and look at her in bewilderment, Ramsay was leaning closer to the window pane, “I’d keep bringing you to the edge, until you almost couldn’t take it anymore, until you were begging for release… and then finally… I’d plunge a knife into your throat and watch as you choke on your own blood.”

 

Ramsay stood up and beat his fist against the wall, shouting, _“You fucking bitch!”_

 

Ella stood up and it was a testament to her effect that when she raised the phone back to her lips, Ramsay raised his to his ear.

 

“That’s right, you piece of shit, I am a bitch. And that girl you nearly killed? The one you bruised and sliced and bloodied? That’s my best friend, the _light_ of my world, and you almost took her from me.”

 

“I got sloppy,” he shrugged, “I had not intended for her to survive. Ah well, there’s always next time.”

 

Robb felt a deep growl leave his body and stood up.

 

“There isn’t going to _be_ a next time,” he spat at him.

 

He didn’t look particularly concerned about that and said, “I have very good lawyers.”

 

“Ours are better,” Ella said boldly, and then she let out a breathy laugh-cry, “She’s told me everything.” Ramsay’s attention shifted back to her and for the first time he looked afraid. “I saw it, the gaslighting you did with her. The way you made her feel guilty for things that weren’t her fault. The way you ridiculed her. She had to tell me about everything else though. The way you threatened her. Kicked her. Beat her… _raped her_ …”

 

Robb turned to look at Ella and she glanced apologetically at him. She hadn’t meant to say that, that was clear. He hadn’t known that, though he had guessed, and he wanted to smash through the glass and plunge a shard of it first into Ramsay’s cock and then through his eye and out the other side of his head.

 

“It wasn’t the first time, either,” Robb said hollowly, “We know about the other women. You are going to _rot_ in here.”

 

“Perhaps,” Ramsay said with a grin, and then his gaze wandered back to Ella, “And if I don’t, I know exactly where I’ll head first.”

 

“You know where to find me,” Ella said and then spat at him, “Enjoy your time in the showers.”

 

She hung up the phone then and grabbed her things and walked out of the room.

 

“She’s quite a girl,” Ramsay’s vicious voice said in his ear, he turned back to him and clenched his fists, “So lovely. A _delicate_ beauty. I doubt it would take more than the flick of my wrist to snap that elegant neck of hers.”

 

A snarl escaped him and he seethed, “You’ll never get close enough to find out.”

 

Ramsay _tsk_ ed at him and shook his head, “ _Poor_ Robb, so brave, so foolish. You love too many pretty, weak things. It’ll be the death of you.”

 

“I don’t know any pretty, weak things,” Robb corrected, “And if you forget that, it may just be the death of _you_.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is about three months after the last chapter

 

 

“Oooh that tickles!,” Sansa shuddered.

 

“Sorry, sorry!,” Ella laughed, “I’ll _try to… no_ you know what, I don’t know _how_ to give you a pedicure without touching your feet!”

 

“I’ll be good just _avoid_ the middle of my foot,” Sansa pleaded.

 

Ella picked up her foot and placed it on her thigh. She was sitting cross-legged on Sansa’s bed, with Sansa, Lady and Grey Wind, wearing a pair of sleep shorts and an old sweatshirt of Gendry’s. Sansa was wearing a silk pajama set and her hair was up.

 

Which was progress.

 

It had taken over a month and a half after the bruises on the back of her neck had healed for her to feel comfortable putting it up in a ponytail. Now it was up in a top knot, pieces falling out and framing her beautiful, dewy face.

 

“I seriously don’t understand the point of a pedicure in the middle of winter, who is going to see it?,” Gendry asked from the chair next to the bed as he munched on the popcorn she’d made.

 

Ella looked up at Sansa and they rolled their eyes, “Someone else seeing it isn’t the point. And don’t get too comfortable, you’re next.”

 

Gendry’s eyes widened in horror and Sansa broke down laughing.

 

“Oh-oh-ohmygod you should see your face right now,” she giggled.

 

She and Gendry both turned to look at Sansa. Her laughter was so rare that none of them wanted to miss it when it happened. Ella glanced back at Gendry and mouthed _Thank you_.

 

Robb was out tonight, so she’d invited Gendry over. Even though Sansa was most comfortable around her and Arya and her mom, she was trying to follow her therapist’s advice and spend more time with men she trusted. Even with Ramsay locked up before his trial next month, Ella felt better having someone else with her and Sansa. Even though they never let Lady and Grey Wind out at the same time, unless they were with them.

 

She hated feeling this way, like the other shoe was going to drop, like they could be under attack at any moment, and she hated to feel reliant on a man to protect her, but she knew that she took care of Robb and Gendry and even Theon in different ways and that they relied on her just as much.

 

Besides, what was pride compared to Sansa’s safety?

 

They heard the front door close and Grey Wind’s ears perked.

 

“Robb?,” Gendry called, in a low voice.

 

“Yeah!,” they heard from downstairs.

 

Her stomach started doing flip-flops, and she focused on the task in front of her.

 

“Robby Ella’s _torturinnggg_ me!!!,” Sansa cooed loudly.

 

They heard Robb’s deep chuckle as he came up the stairs and she turned to defend herself just as he was coming to stand in Sansa’s doorway.

 

But he wasn’t alone.

 

“Hi Roslin,” she smiled, hating how her voice had gone up an octave.

 

“Hey Myrcella,” Roslin smiled back, her arms wrapped around Robb’s, her cheek against his bicep as though it was right where she belonged.

 

Which it was. Because she was his girlfriend.

 

She avoided Robb’s gaze and continued to paint Sansa’s big toenail.

 

“The torture in question, I assume?,” Robb asked, and though it should have been directed at Sansa, she could feel his eyes on her.

 

“Yep, though I like the color a lot,” Sansa nodded and Robb chuckled.

 

“Oooh let me see, girly,” Roslin cooed in a voice that made Ella cringe, and she stepped inside the room towards the bed.

 

A low growl emanated from next to her, making the bed practically vibrate.

 

“Grey Wind!,” Robb snapped, which made her flinch because he never sounded like that with him.

 

It did nothing to stop Grey Wind though, who all but snarled. She looked at Roslin who rolled her eyes and was still stupidly approaching the bed.

 

“Shh, shh, shh,” she murmured at Grey Wind, stroking his head, “Shh shh shh, it’s alright.”

 

He turned to her as though he had forgotten that she was there and his tongue dangled out of his mouth and he rolled over onto his back for her to pet him. Coincidentally, right on top of Sansa’s toes.

 

Her still wet toenails.

 

“Grey Wind!,” Sansa squealed, though she grinned with he started licking her ankle.

 

Ella couldn’t help but giggle as she rubbed his stomach, making his tail thwack, “You’re such a big oaf, aren’t you puppywuppy? I’ll redo them Dovey, don’t worry.”

 

“Grey Wind come on, I’ll let you out,” Robb said sternly and she turned to look at him.

 

He had the strangest look on his face, one she’d never seen before. It was like Grey Wind had betrayed him and though she knew that Robb would never hurt him, she felt protective over him all the same.

 

“If you guys um… are going to bed… I can let him out before I go upstairs,” she offered.

 

“Yeah, Robby, we’ve got him. He’ll end up sleeping with Ella anyway. You know how much he loves _her_ ,” Sansa said pointedly.

 

Ella stared down at Grey Wind because something had shifted in the room. He sat up and leaned against her, and she buried his face in his fur, as though he was now protecting her.

 

“Alright,” Robb said finally, “Night guys.”

 

“Night,” she chorused along with Sansa and Gendry.

 

They all heard Roslin start telling Robb something and him _mmhming_ as they walked into the bedroom he’d claimed on the second floor. When he closed the door behind him they heard her giggle and squeal and Ella felt like she was going to be sick.

 

She picked up her cell phone and turned on music, syncing it with Sansa’s speakers. She didn’t want to hear Roslin’s delighted laughter as Robb probably swept her up in his arms.

 

She knew what it felt like to be in those arms, so she could imagine it perfectly. The way they made you feel small and safe and cared for.

 

She’d fallen asleep in front of the fire the other night and she’d woken as Robb carried her up the stairs.

 

_“Robb?,” she yawned._

 

_“You’re exhausted, El, go back to sleep we’re almost there,” he told her._

 

_“I can walk,” she said, though she burrowed her head into his shoulder, breathing in his familiar smell._

 

_“I don’t mind,” he murmured against her hair. “Sleep, sweetheart.”_

 

She didn’t remember him putting her into bed, which means that she fell asleep on the way up, but she woke up underneath her covers, her curtains closed so that the early morning sun didn’t wake her.

 

She heard a giggle in the next room and she turned up the volume.

 

“I thought he was breaking up with her,” Gendry said as she started taking the smudged nail polish off of Sansa’s left foot.

 

Ella hadn’t heard that, Robb hadn’t told her. She tried not to let that bother her. She had thought they were close.

 

Sansa sighed, “I thought so too, did you know she tried to make him go to a concert on the anniversary of my Dad’s death? She claimed she didn’t know. They’ve been dating for two years.”

 

“Je _sus_ , and did you know that she’s been texting Dickon? Like _texting him texting him_?,” Gendry asked Sansa and Ella’s stomach surged with anger.

 

Roslin had Robb, why would she ever look elsewhere?

 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Sansa said, nudging her with her foot.

 

“I’m concentrating,” Ella demurred. She looked up just in time to see Gendry and Sansa sharing a look. “What’s this about?”

 

“They won’t last,” Sansa promised.

 

“No chance of it,” Gendry confirmed.

 

Ella couldn’t stand the way they were looking at her. It was with so much pity.

 

She opened the nail polish again and began to reapply it, “Robb’s our friend. We should not be betting against his happiness.”

 

“We aren’t betting against his happiness,” Gendry argued, “We’re betting on yours.”

 

***

 

The laughter of his friends surrounded him and he felt lighter than he had in days.

 

He sat on the floor in the girls living room, warmed from the fire, Lady at his side, her head in his lap.

 

She had always been the sweetest of the dogs, and like Sansa, had always been loyal to him. Even when he didn’t deserve it.

 

He stroked her head and she looked up at him with her trusting eyes. They were yellow where Sansa’s were blue, but the same stubborn innocence shone out of them, making him feel like a fraud.

 

He still remembered the first time time she’d met Ramsay, the growl that had emanated deep from within her. He’d never heard such a sound.

 

Ramsay had laughed it off, so had Sansa. So had he.

 

Even though he’d seen it. The way his eyes flashed back viciously to Lady for a moment when Sansa turned away. Even though he never saw them in the same room together again.

 

_You were right the whole time, girl, I’ll never doubt your judgment again._

 

Lady nuzzled his hand, as though he’d long been forgiven and warmth flooded his veins when he heard his sisters’ matching laughter.

 

“It was a _very_ good try,” Sansa insisted, “Don’t listen to them, Theon.”

 

“That’s my girl,” Theon grinned at Sansa, wrapping his arm around her and tweaking her nose, the way he had since she was four years old, “My loyal, lovely girl.”

 

Too late he realised his mistake, and all of their breaths caught. The last time Bran had approached Sansa from behind and nudged her out of the way she had stumbled away from him in fright and locked herself into a corner.

 

Sansa grinned back at him though, and burrowed into his embrace. Safely out of Sansa’s eye line, a single tear fell from Theon’s eye and his gaze wandered over to him. Robb gave him a grim smile and Theon nodded once, wiping his eye and smiling back at Sansa when she beamed up at him.

 

He was wrapped up in the sight of his little sister happy when he felt Lady’s head lift off of his thigh and Grey Wind stood up and trotted over to the bottom of the stairs. They all heard light footsteps coming down them and he turned as Ella reached the bottom.

 

He felt as though he’d been kicked in the stomach as she came into the living room, petting Grey Wind but pushing him away from her gown of pale pink and silver.

 

“Lord have mercy,” he muttered, and the feel of wide brown eyes on him told him that Arya had heard.

 

“ _Owowwwww_ ,” Theon whistled, “Looking _good_ Sunshine.”

 

“Where are you going again?,” Gendry asked her.

 

“Some benefit with Dicky,” Ella said with a flick of her hand, as though every evening was a different event with a millionaire, which at one point had been the case, “His father forbid him from ever seeing that Wylla girl again, so he asked me to be his date,” she turned this way and that, “Think old Randyll will approve of me?”

 

God himself could not find fault in her, let alone Randyll Tarly.

 

She was a wisp of a thing, the sheer, loose sleeves of her gown making her look especially ethereal, and her golden hair tumbled down like a waterfall, making her look like chastity and temptation all in one.

 

“He might try and steal you for himself,” Arya said, “The old beast.”

 

Ella chuckled and shook her head, as though ridding herself of the image.

 

She opened her eyes and they fell on him, and he wondered if it was obvious, that he was dying inside. He wondered if she could see right through him, into his soul. Sometimes it felt like those green eyes of hers didn’t miss a thing.

 

“What say you…,” she started and then blinked and turned to his sister, “Dovey? Did I make the right choice?”

 

“There was no choice to be made,” Sansa said, sounding like a Delphic oracle. He turned towards her and found her looking at him already. She held his gaze for a moment and then turned to her best friend and smiled, “That is the _only_ dress worthy of that face.”

 

Ella grinned, her cheeks pink in the firelight. The doorbell rang and she turned to go answer it but he couldn’t stop himself and hopped up.

 

“Robb it’s no trouble I’ll -,” she started.

 

“A lady never answers her own door,” he interjected, adopting the tone he always used to use when he played her loyal knight.

 

She grinned like a child and curtsied to him, her eyes downcast, a vestal virgin, but her voice could tempt the devil himself, “Then by all means, my lord.”

 

He wanted to kiss her hand. To tell her she looked beautiful. That if Randyll Tarly so much as stared too long at her he would cut his heart out with a dinner knife.

 

Instead he walked down the hallway towards the front door and opened it.

 

“Dickon,” he said.

 

He looked like an off-duty superhero in his tuxedo, all strong jaw and broad shoulders. He knew he and Roslin had a thing a while back, and he sometimes wondered if she still had a thing for him. He’d heard about some text messages, but when he’d asked her about them she’d denied it.

 

Dickon averted his gaze for a moment and then smiled warily, “Robb. Is um… Ella here?”

 

Robb nodded and held the door open, “Yeah she’s in the living room with everyone, come on in.”

 

Dickon thanked him graciously and followed him inside, closing the door behind him. Robb walked into the living room, with lead feet.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Dickon sputtered from behind him.

 

Ella grinned, “Ain’t got _nothin’_ on you in that tuxedo, Dicky boy.”

 

Dickon chuckled behind him and stepped towards her, brushing Robb’s arm and making him clench his fist.

 

“I suppose it is redundant to tell you how beautiful you look,” Dickon told her.

 

Ella reached up and straightened his bowtie, “I adore a bit of redundancy now and again.”

 

“Well then, Miss Baratheon, you are _just_ about the prettiest sight I’ve ever seen,” Dickon said and Robb met Theon’s eye as his friend gagged dramatically. He then turned to everyone else in the room, “Hi all - hey Sansa, you look great!”

 

Sansa smiled politely at him, “Thanks Dickon, it’s good to see you.”

 

“When will you be home?,” he suddenly blurted out.

 

Everyone in the room turned to look at him and Ella teased, “I promise to make curfew, _Daddy_.”

 

_Holy fuck, say that again._

 

He was speechless for a second and then managed to get out, “I was just asking so that I’d know when to lock up.”

 

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll lock up when I get home.”

 

“Fine,” he tried for nonchalance but he was pretty sure it came out as petulant.

 

She went over to the couch and kissed Theon’s cheek, then Sansa’s, then Arya’s and Gendry stood up and gave her a bear hug. Dickon waved goodbye t everyone and there was a chorus of “ _See you later”_ and “ _Have fun”_.

 

Ella was breezing by him and he caught a whiff of her jasmine shampoo and he remembered her head nuzzling against him as he carried her upstairs a couple weeks ago.

 

She had felt so good and right in his arms and when he’d gotten her into bed she’d grabbed onto his wrist.

 

_“El?,” he asked as he sat down on her bed._

 

_“I think the big bad wolf wasn’t so bad,” she offered, her eyes closed._

 

_He grinned at her and pushed some hair out of her face, “Oh, no?”_

 

_“No… he was just… sad,” she lamented, her forehead adorably wrinkling even as she yawned._

 

_“You can tell me all about his plights in the morning, sweetheart,” he promised._

 

_“But you know them,” she said, her eyes opening for a moment before they closed again, “You’re my big bad wolf.”_

 

He stopped her with a hand on her arm. She glanced up at him as though he was acting peculiar, which he knew he was.

 

“If you need _anything_ , call me. I’ll be up,” he said.

 

 _Until you get home_ , he didn’t add, but it didn’t matter. She knew what he meant. He was pretty sure everyone knew what he meant.

 

He hoped at least Dickon did.

 

“Thank you,” she said softly.

 

“Seriously, El, if you need a ride -,” he started.

 

Dickon interrupted him though and said, “Oh don’t worry man, I’ve got a driver. Wouldn’t drive this precious cargo after the _copious_ amounts of alcohol I’ll have to imbibe to get through this evening.”

 

Ella giggled but he didn’t.

 

“That’s great to hear, but I was speaking to Ella,” he informed him.

 

“Robb!,” Ella admonished, “What is the matter with you?”

 

“There’s nothing the matter with me,” he argued, “I’m just… well I think that… forgive me for wanting you to be _safe_.”

 

“Dude, you’ve known me for five years,” Dickon pointed out, “Do we have a problem I don’t know about?”

 

“No dude,” he shook his head, “Treat her right and it’ll stay that way.”

 

“Oh my god,” Ella shook her head, “We are leaving.”

 

“Ella,” he sighed.

 

“Goodnight Robb,” she said.

 

“I don’t want you to be angry with me,” he said.

 

“Well I didn’t want you to act like an asshole,” she shot back, “I guess we were both in for disappointment.”

 

With that she walked out of the room and Dickon shot him one last look of confusion before following her. He didn’t sit down until he heard the front door close - slam - shut.

 

Everyone sat in silence but Lady got off the floor when he sat down and wandered over to lay down with Nymeria. She loved him, but she loved Ella more.

 

“You know, mate,” Gendry said, “What you just did? That’s my job.”

 

He looked at Gendry, because he was really done with people trying to tell him not to worry about Ella. First her, then Roslin in a particularly awful fight of theirs, and now Gendry?

 

“Yeah well, I didn’t see you doing it,” he pointed out.

 

Gendry chuckled, “You really are an ass sometimes, Stark. She wasn’t going out with a Hell’s Angel, it’s Dicky fucking Tarly - she’d sooner make him cry than the other way around.”

 

“Yeah well it wouldn’t take more than the flick of his wrist to snap her neck,” he spat out.

 

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t get that conversation with Ramsay out of his mind. That maniacal smile, the thirst and desire in his eyes when he looked at Ella.

 

“That’s a horrible thing to say,” Sansa said quietly.

 

“I know,” he admitted, “I’m sorry.”

 

“They’re just friends,” Arya offered kindly.

 

“Well, she may be just friends with _him_ ,” Theon said, “But he’s been into her for ages.”

 

“Great,” Robb muttered. “Forgive me for wanting her safe - I thought you lot would understand after ever-“

 

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Sansa growled at him. He looked at her. He hadn’t heard that tone of voice from her in months, not since before she met Ramsay. She stood up and her cheeks were red in anger, “Don’t you _dare_ try to blame what just happened on _me_. You know as well as any of us do that Dickon’s a good guy - and I know that it kills you that you can’t hate him - but don’t you _dare_ use me as an excuse to justify the behaviour your _jealousy_ caused.”

 

He was so relieved to see this part of her personality return that for a moment he didn’t even understand what she had said. She looked strong and confident and he could have cried in happiness to see her like that.

 

“Why are you smiling?,” she asked him in annoyance.

 

He hadn’t realised that he was smiling.

 

“I- don’t know,” he lied, which made her even more annoyed. He started backtracking, “I’m sorry, Dovey… but -“

 

“Save it,” Sansa said and brushed past him, “It’s all horse shit, anyway.”

 

With that she stormed up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door. Memories of her at fifteen flooded his mind and even though he knew he had fucked up he couldn’t be upset about it.

 

She was coming back to them.

 

The old Sansa was never afraid to speak her mind. Especially in defence of a friend.

 

“Give it five minutes,” Arya said, “Then go up.”

 

“Bring lemon cakes!,” Theon suggested.

 

“And Grey Wind,” Gendry added.

 

“Guys, I know how to speak with Sansa,” he said.

 

“Yeah, you did a _real_ good job of it just now,” Arya pointed out.

 

He ignored her and started walking up the stairs. He then walked back down the stairs and into the kitchen. He grabbed the tray of lemon cakes and walked back through the living room. Theon gave him a thumbs up as he went past and he walked up the stairs.

 

He knocked on the door and didn’t hear anything so he opened the door.

 

“I’m sorry,” he told her. She was sitting on her bed, hugging her legs, her chin on her knees. “I wasn’t trying to use you as an excuse.” She fixed him with a look and he amended, “Or, well it wasn’t _just_ an excuse.”

 

She looked at him for a long while and then said, “You might as well bring those over here.”

 

He grinned and brought the tray over. He almost grabbed the chair he always sat in, but sat on her bed instead. If she minded, she didn’t say, and when he held the tray closer to her she picked one off of it. She tore a piece of the cake off and popped it in her mouth, chewing happily.

 

He leaned his head back against the wall and sighed.

 

“She’s always nice to Roslin,” Sansa said, leaning her head against the wall as well.

 

“It’s not the same,” he lamented.

 

Ella loved him, he knew that. But as a friend, an older brother. Anytime he thought it might be more than that he was swiftly proven wrong.

 

“Maybe not,” Sansa allowed, leaning her head against his shoulder, “But not for the reason you think.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is about six months after Sansa's hospitalisation, about six months before "Love is Blind (and sometimes, deaf and dumb)"

 

“I can’t, I… I thought I was strong -,” she started.

 

“Dovey, you _are_ strong,” Robb argued, “What you just did in there - you _are_.”

 

“I,” she shook her head, “I b-broke down I… I forgot to mention… _I…_ ,” she trailed off and started to cry.

 

Ella’s heart tore in two as Robb pulled Sansa into his arms. She wrapped hers around him immediately and Ella sighed in relief. She had been afraid that the trial, that reliving it all, looking Ramsay in the face, would set her progress back.

 

She had been doing so well, with only minor backsliding in the days leading up to the trial which her therapist had said was completely normal.

 

Ella had wanted to shield her body when she sat up on the witness stand, Ramsay’s attorney badgering her, trying to get her to crack, trying to get her to contradict herself. Like Ramsay said, he was good.

 

Thankfully their lawyers were better.

 

Sansa had done beautifully, answered each question thoughtfully, made eye contact, her words had been measured.

 

She was the strongest person Ella had ever known, her skin as smooth and unyielding as steel.

 

Ella met Theon’s gaze over Sansa’s shoulder and he shook his head at her. He didn’t have to say anything, she knew what he was thinking, what he was asking. It was the question that had haunted her ever since he’d first asked it.

 

He’d come over for dinner, Robb was out with Roslin, and had stayed over in one of their other guest room. They’d sat up, drinking from one of her father’s good bottles of scotch, though neither of them really cared for it. When Robb had finally come home they’d been good and drunk, Sansa was already in bed, and he’d taken one look at the pair of them and taking a swig right from the bottle to catch up, plopping himself down on the floor.

 

They’d sat in silence mostly, the kind of silence you can only have with the people you’ve known the longest, loved the hardest.

 

_Do you remember when Sansa got braces, and Arya called her braceface for that whole first month?_

 

She and Robb had nodded, Ella had gotten her first pimple that same summer and she and Sansa had hidden away with fashion magazines and lemonades so that no one could see them in their reduced states. She smiled at the memory.

 

_That was as bad as it was supposed to get for her._

 

She and Robb had nodded. They’d had similar conversations many times.

 

Theon shook his head and chucked his glass into the fireplace. It made an awful sound as it shattered against the brick but neither she or Robb flinched.

 

_Where the fuck were we?_

 

What kind of friends were they - what kind of _people_ were they, that they had missed it? Why didn’t they see it?

 

_Where the fuck were we?_

 

There was a general shuffling in the hallway as people started making their way back into the court room.

 

Robb rubbed Sansa’s back and asked, “Are you ready, Dovey?”

 

She shook her head and lifted her cheek off his chest, “I-I can’t… I can’t go back in there, I can’t listen to him… Can you take me home?”

 

Robb’s eyes met hers and his jaw clenched. She knew he didn’t want to deny his sister anything in that moment, but they had made a pact. They were going to see it through. They had to know.

 

“Dovey,” she said as gently as she could, “I think I want to stay.”

 

Sansa turned to her and for a moment she looked frightened but she nodded bravely, “You’ll come home straight after.”

 

“Well, _after_ I stop at Nan’s for lemon cakes,” Ella teased and to her immense delight Sansa actually smiled. “Go home and get some rest. You did so well. The words haven’t been invented yet to explain how proud I am of you.”

 

Sansa stepped forward and hugged her, _really_ hugged her, “I love you.” She squeezed Sansa back, breathing in her lavender shampoo. Sansa laid her cheek on her shoulder and looked at Robb, “I take it you’re staying too.” Robb nodded. Sansa rubbed her back briefly, and then said to Theon, “Well Greyjoy, looks like you’re stuck with me.”

 

Theon opened his mouth and for a moment it was almost like old times. Ella could see the wheels in his mind turning, thinking up the perfect double entendre. But in the end he merely stepped to Sansa’s side, so she could see him approaching and held his hand out to her.

 

“Come on, Dovey, I’ll even watch Pride and Prejudice with you,” he said.

 

Sansa placed her hand in his and waved to her and Robb and the two of them walked through the court house.

 

When they were out of hearing distance she and Robb looked at each other.

 

“Are you ready?,” he asked her, just like he had as they waited outside the jail to go see Ramsay.

 

“No,” she said, just like she had then.

 

“Me either,” he admitted.

 

And then he took her hand in his and pulled her back inside.

 

***

 

He couldn’t take it, it was too much. It had been days of this.

 

He wasn’t sure why the jury didn’t just call it. Why did there have to be more and more women? More stories? More images?

 

Why wasn’t it enough for them to just _call_ it?

 

He knew why. They had to go through it all, address all the charges. One by one.

 

He knew, logically, as well, that it was for the best. That every woman, every story, made it harder and harder for his lawyer.

 

The defence looked winded. The judge exhausted. The jury horrified.

 

He had thought that nothing could be worse than Sansa’s stories. And in truth, nothing could, because it was she who’d suffered through them. She had experienced things no person ever should and she would live with the scars for the rest of her life, and the saddest thing of all was that she was one of the lucky ones. His cruelty had no bounds.

 

There was a brief recess and he turned to look at Ella.

 

“Do you want to get something to eat?,” he asked.

 

She glanced over at him and he had never seen her look so frail. Not even in the early days right after Sansa’s hospitalisation.

 

She shook her head, “You go. I’ll catch up on some emails.”

 

“No,” he said, settling back against the seat, “I’m good.”

 

She clenched her eyes shut and then turned and looked at him, “Don’t starve yourself for my benefit. I’ll be fine.”

 

“So will I,” he said stubbornly.

 

She fixed him with a look and he fixed her with one right back. He knew how exhausted she must be when she didn’t argue further, and instead she reached into her bag. She pulled out a light grey cashmere wrap and wrapped it around herself and then grabbed her cell phone out. A second later a granola bar appeared in his hand.

 

She didn’t even look at him as she gave it to him, her fingers already typing impossibly quickly on her phone. He unwrapped it and broke of a piece and offered it to her but she shook her head and kept typing, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

 

It was a terrible time for her to be out of the office, but she hadn’t wanted to hear it when he offered to go on his own. Instead she worked until midnight every night catching up.

 

She scrolled through a few more things and then put her phone back in her bag, pulling out a water bottle and taking a sip before offering it to him. He took it from her and took a sip as well before handing it back.

 

“All okay at the office?,” he asked.

 

She shrugged, “Better than it is here.”

 

There was nothing much to say to that so he remained silent. Today was the last day of the trial, they just had got make it until the end of the day. They had been told that the jury might recess and deliberate tomorrow, but the stories would end today.

 

Ella shivered and pulled the wrap more firmly around herself, looking at a spot to his left. He saw her eyes fill with tears and then she breathed deeply, her lip trembling for only a moment before it steadied.

 

She looked up at him and started, “I know I’m not in a position to ask anything of you…”

 

He rolled his eyes, “You’re always in a position to ask something of me.”

 

She gave him a weak smile, her eyes staring into his. For a moment he was afraid she’d gone somewhere else. She hadn’t eaten a proper meal since the trial had started. When he really looked at her though he saw that she was in there, just grateful.

 

As though he wouldn’t pull his heart from his body if she requested it.

 

“I’ve started an application, to go back to school,” she said and he nodded. She already had her Masters, but he knew that she’d toyed with getting her PhD for a while. “For social work. Would you maybe read over my essays? There are only two, but I just don’t even know if what I wrote makes sense at this point.”

 

“S-social work?,” he asked.

 

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?,” she wondered.

 

He thought of how good she was with his family in the days after Sansa’s hospitalisation. The way she tailored herself to whichever Stark she was talking to, their particular needs. With his mother she was informative and gentle. With Rickon she was nurturing. With Bran she was quiet. With Arya she was all anger. With Sansa she was soothing and steady. And with him -

 

She was herself.

 

Or she seemed to be anyway. But maybe that’s what they all thought. That she was just being herself. Maybe she was.

 

Maybe that was the magic of her.

 

He shook his head, “I think you were born to do it.”

 

Her cheeks took on a delicious pink and when she smiled she looked younger somehow.

 

“So you’ll read them?,” she asked hopefully. He nodded, a smile tugging at his lips and she grinned.

 

 _Sunshine_ , Theon called her.

 

People started to file back in and she turned forward in her seat. He did as well. He hadn’t realised that he’d put his arm on the back of the seat behind her. Hadn’t realised how close was leaning towards her until her hair tickled his cheek.

 

He was straightening himself up when she looked back over at him.

 

“I wish neither of us was here,” she told him, “But I’m glad to be here with you.”

 

He opened his mouth but then the judge was calling everyone to order. She straightened her posture, her eyes on the jury. She had been keeping track of which ones were on their side. She watched them through each round of questioning.

 

And he watched her.

 

_I wish neither of us was here, but I’m glad to be here with you._

 

His heart pumped on overdrive, his vision turned blurry at the edges, and all he saw was her.

 

He wasn’t sure how he’d missed it, but it was hiding in plain sight this whole time. His affection had shrouded it, his attraction disguised it. He had called it infatuation.

 

It was the truth, but so very little of it that it may as well have been a lie.

 

He loved her. He loved Myrcella Baratheon with every ounce of himself. Everything, everything he had, everything he was, it was all for her.

 

He couldn’t think of a truer statement than the one she had just said. And though she didn’t mean it in the way he wanted her to, it was the greatest statement of love he’d ever heard.

 

Because really, who was the love of your life if not the person who made the hardest things bearable? Who made you strong when you were at your weakest?

 

A burst of sunshine through your darkest night.

 

He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

 

He tried to focus on the questioning taking place, but he couldn’t. He was suddenly so _aware_ that it was impossible to do anything at all.

 

So he just sat there, half-listening and only vaguely understood that the jury was sent away for deliberation.

 

“Robb,” he heard as though he were underwater, “ _Robb?_ ” He felt her hands on his cheeks and he focused into her jadeite eyes, “Did you hear me?” He shook his head and her brow furrowed in concern, “The jury is done deliberating.” He nodded and she said, “I need to know that you’re here. That you’re ready if it doesn’t go our way.”

 

It was the only thing that could have pulled him out of his thoughts in that moment. His little sister, at home and terrified, three dogs, Gendry, Theon, and Arya all guarding her.

 

If it didn’t go their way they were getting her out. There was a plan in place. A cabin further north. The car had been packed for days.

 

If it didn’t go their way, no restraining order in the world would keep Ramsay from her.

 

He looked at Ella and said the only thing he could think to say. The thing Starks always said in moments like this.

 

“I’m here.”

 

***

 

She woke up in a cold sweat.

 

There had been a pair of cold hands around her neck. She couldn’t breathe. And she’d been trying to get to something. Someone.

 

 _Sansa_.

 

She hopped out of bed and ran down the stairs, barging into Sansa’s room. Sansa woke up, she was a light sleeper these days, but merely smiled at her.

 

“El?,” she yawned.

 

Ella panted, nearly doubling over.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, go back to sleep,” she said.

 

“Nutmeg,” Sansa said. She glanced up at her and Sansa yawned again, “In warm milk. It banishes bad dreams.”

 

“Thanks, Dovey,” she said, “I’m sorry. Sleep tight.”

 

Sansa burrowed her cheek against Lady’s fur, and Ella couldn’t help but watch them. They looked so peaceful.

 

Justice had prevailed. She was safe. And she looked it. She looked like she _believed_ it.

 

Ella couldn’t. Her back was tense, her blood pumping viciously. Maybe warm milk was a good idea, though she’d never really cared for it.

 

She closed the door as quietly as she could and walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

 

She turned on the light and jumped back when she saw a figure sitting at the kitchen table.

 

“Robb, oh my god,” she breathed out.

 

He turned to her, a glazed look in his eye and grinned at her, “ _Ella_.”

 

“What are you doing, sitting here in the dark?,” she wondered.

 

He held his hands out wide, “Celebrating.”

 

It was then that she saw the liquor bottle resting in front of him.

 

She looked back at him and saw the truth in his eyes. The truth she hadn’t let herself acknowledge.

 

They’d won, but it was a hollow victory. 

 

He pulled out a seat, making it screech on the floor, and said, “Have a drink with me.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest, “Sansa said I should drink milk… with nutmeg.”

 

His brow furrowed and his head kind of bobbed as he turned to look at her, “What did you dream about?”

 

She smiled at that, wondering what part of the Stark family lore this particular trick had come from.

 

He may have been drunk, but he wasn’t losing his train of thought, “You can tell me.”

 

“Failure,” she sighed.

 

She crossed to the fridge and pulled out the milk and poured some into a saucepan and turned the burner on low. She went back to the fridge and pulled out some chicken salad and grabbed a fork and uncovered it and placed it in front of him.

 

“You’re going to be the best mom,” he said, “You’re all pretty and crafty and bakey.”

 

She grinned, “Bakey?”

 

He nodded, taking a bite of the chicken salad. She grabbed the bottle and turned to put it back in the liquor cabinet but he grabbed her arm.

 

“You’ve had enough,” she said.

 

He looked at her, and for a moment he almost looked sobered, “Don’t cut me off tonight.”

 

She looked at his hand around her wrist and he released it immediately. She went to the cabinet, but she didn’t put the liquor bottle back. She grabbed a clean glass and sat down at the table and handed the bottle back to him.

 

“Pour,” she ordered.

 

“Ella,” he sighed.

 

“Pour,” she repeated, getting up.

 

She went back to the stove and turned it off, dumping the warm milk down the sink.

 

She sat back down and saw that he’d poured the whiskey into each of their glasses. He’d poured a finger in hers, nearly four in his. She picked his up and gulped it down.

 

“You haven’t eaten in a week,” he scolded.

 

She fought the urge to smile. He was so easy. The best way to get him to take care of himself was to give him someone else to take care of.

 

She didn’t like to manipulate anyone, least of all him, but she also didn’t like to see him drowning his sorrows, blaming himself for things he’d never be rid of.

 

“You know what the worst part is?,” he asked, as though they’d been talking.

 

It was how all of their conversations were these days. No hellos. No goodbyes. Just picking up where they left off.

 

“I have to pick just one?,” she asked, knocking back the whiskey in her glass.

 

He sighed and poured them each another. This time they were even and they clinked glasses and both took solemn sips.

 

“I realised the moment that they said Guilty that I was hoping that they wouldn’t,” he said, his eyes on hers as though waiting for her to pull back in fear. She met his gaze head on, urging him to continue. “I… I was going to drop you off. Somewhere safe.”

 

She chuckled harshly and took a sip of her whiskey.

 

“What could possibly be funny about that?,” he asked.

 

“Check your glove compartment in the morning,” she sighed. He raised his eyebrows at her. “My Uncle Stannis gave me a dagger for my sixteenth birthday. My mother said he didn’t understand girls,” she shook her head and downed the rest of whiskey, “She was right. But he sure as hell understood men.”

 

_And the things they do to girls who’ve only been taught to like pretty things._

 

He stared at her and she stared back and he knocked back his whiskey.

 

He shook his head, slamming his glass down on the table, “Fuck you.”

 

“Excuse me?,” she asked.

 

“You heard me,” he spat at her, “Were you going to fucking tell me that was your plan?”

 

“Were you going to tell me?,” she shot back.

 

His jaw clenched, “That’s different.”

 

“It’s the same,” she corrected and poured them each another glass.

 

“He’s got nearly a foot and 80 pounds on you,” he argued.

 

“Which would probably make him very likely to underestimate me,” she reasoned.

 

She had, after all, spent every night for the past six months thinking about it.

 

“I hate you right now,” he told her. “I didn’t think that was possible. But I _hate_ you for even considering it.”

 

“Then you must love me a lot,” she figured.

 

She was starting to feel dizzy. She couldn’t actually remember the last time she’d had a meal. She wasn’t sure how much she’d drank, but she knew it hadn’t been nearly as much as him.

 

“Got me there, Baratheon,” he sighed and she smiled.

 

Because even though it may not feel like it, today was a victory. It wasn’t over, maybe it never would be. But it might temper over time.

 

Sansa sleeping soundly in her bed was proof of that.

 

“Sansa’s asleep…,” she told him. She expected him to say _good_ or _thank god_ but he said nothing. She glanced over at him and found him staring at her. “I… think that’s a good sign. Don’t you?”

 

He blinked a few times and then nodded, his eyes crinkling, “That’s great, Ellie.”

 

 _Ellie_.

 

He hadn’t called her that since her father’s funeral. And before that, not since she was eight years old.

 

No one else had ever called her that. Only him. It had always made her feel special and safe.

 

Not for the first time, she thought about how much sturdier he’d made the foundation of her life.

 

“I would have told you,” she admitted. “I like to think that I wouldn’t. I wish I was more selfless, but I’m not. I would have told you.”

 

“I wouldn’t have told you,” he admitted. “I like to think that I would’ve. I wish I was more selfless, but I’m not. I wouldn’t have told you.”

 

As far as statements of love went, it had to be one of the best. And even though he didn’t love her in the way she wanted him to, he loved her all the same.

 

“One more, and then bed,” she reasoned.

 

She thought he might argue, but he nodded solemnly and raised his glass to her. She raised hers back and they both knocked them back.

 

She stood and was not surprised to find herself wobbly. He got up to right her, but stumbled a bit, and they ended up holding one another steady.

 

She looked up at him, and he must have been very drunk, because he kind of looked like he wanted to kiss her.

 

“Robb,” she said, because it was the only thing she could think to say and her mouth had gone dry.

 

Even she didn’t know if she was beckoning him forward or pushing him away.

 

He sighed and brushed a lock of hair away from her face, “You know, your face would be the loveliest thing this world has ever seen if it weren’t,” _for Roslin's_ , “For this heart of yours.”

 

She looked into his eyes and it was like she was seeing him for the first time.

 

_Oh._


	5. Chapter 5

 

Her eyes were tired as she typed out her last email of the night. She had missed so much work due to the trial and she was desperately trying to catch up. Grey Wind sighed dramatically, as though telling her to finish up, and she grinned as she reread through the email.

 

They were lying on her bed, she on her stomach, her laptop in front of her, Grey Wind with his head resting on the small of her back. She could feel his warmth through her silk pajamas and there was nothing quite so comforting as the steady weight of him.

 

She was just hitting send when she heard a knock on her door.

 

“Come in,” she called.

 

Robb walked in, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a grey t shirt and he smirked at them. Her heart leapt in her chest.

 

She’d woken up this morning with a mild headache and the memory of his eyes on her, the way his hands had gone from steadying her to just _holding_ her.

 

_Your face would be the loveliest thing the world has ever seen if it weren’t for this heart of yours._

 

She’d been speechless, awe struck, as she looked into his ocean eyes and silently asked him to drown her. It was the first time that she thought he might just feel the same way about her. That he might just love her back.

 

And she was paralysed. Because he wasn’t free to love her, and she wasn’t free to tell him how she felt. So she just looked at him, her hand on his chest until he’d finally stepped away.

 

She’d knocked on his door that morning but he’d already left for the day, and he hadn’t been home for dinner.

 

“I had a feeling I’d find him here,” he said.

 

“Please don’t take him away from me,” she grinned, rolling over so that Grey Wind’s head fell on her stomach and she pet his head, scratching his ears the way he liked.

 

Grey Wind looked up at her with his yellow eyes and sighed in contentment, nuzzling into her.

 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Robb said, and his voice sounded hollow.

 

She glanced over at him, “Robb?”

 

“Can I sit, Ellie?,” he asked.

 

He’d called her that last night too. It sounded different now though and she felt the inexplicable but sudden urge to cry. Instead she nodded and sat up, smoothing out her bedspread.

 

He sat down on the bed and stroked Grey Wind’s fur, looking at the floor. He wouldn’t meet her gaze and that’s how she knew there was goodbye in his eyes.

 

“You’re leaving,” she guessed.

 

He gave a half smile, “You always were too smart by half.”

 

“Why?,” she asked, hating how small her voice sounded.

 

“The trial’s done,” he nodded, “It’s time. Sansa’s safe,” he looked at her and gave her that crinkly eyed smile, “You’re safe.”

 

She shook her head slightly, because she didn’t feel safe. She didn’t want him to leave, not now, not ever.

 

“When will you go?,” she wondered.

 

“Tomorrow,” he said.

 

“T- _tomorrow_?,” she couldn’t help but ask, “But… if you stay until the weekend I can cook you a nice going away dinner and -“

 

He let out a laugh that sounded pained and she flinched. She must have misunderstood that look last night. He was just drunk, that’s all. Drunk and sad. And here she was envisioning their glorious life together and all he wanted was to have his old life back.

 

“I’m just a few blocks away, Ellie,” he reminded her.

 

She nodded, and looked away from him as a tear fell out of her eye. He had called her Ellie as a child, and she felt like one now, weeping over a boy that would never be hers.

 

But he had been hers, in a way. They had built a little life in the hollow ache of the last few months, and now it was over. There would be no more family dinners. No staying up by the fire.

 

No coming home to him.

 

“El,” he whimpered and she looked at him. His eyes travelled the tear’s path down her cheek. “This was never meant to be forever. Every night, here, it’s gotten too-”

 

_Too much. Too burdensome._

 

She swiped her cheek and got off the bed, “You’re right. You’ve done your duty.”

 

“That’s not -,” he started and then stopped himself. She could tell he’d gotten off the bed and felt him coming up behind her. She felt his hand on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing the blade of it. She wanted to lean into his touch, but she couldn’t. “I’m just a phone call away. If you ever -“

 

“I’ll be fine,” she said coldly, trying desperately not to break, “I told you months ago you didn’t have to worry about me. I’m not yours to protect.”

 

“Damn it, _what_ do you want from me, Ella?,” he asked and turned her around. He looked down at her, his blue eyes imploring, his voice softer as he demanded, “Tell me, _tell me_ what you want from me.”

 

_You. That’s all I want._

 

Didn’t he see it? Couldn’t he see her heart? Couldn’t he feel it?

 

It was sitting right there in his hands.

 

“Nothing,” she told him, stepping away from him, “You’ve done more than enough.”

 

His jaw clenched as his eyes wandered over her face and nodded.

 

She looked over his too. It was still the most beautiful visage she’d ever seen, but it looked older, more tired than it had only months ago. He had put his whole life on hold for Sansa, for them.

 

He really had done more than enough.

 

She tried to give him a smile but it only made tears flood her eyes, “I’m just going to miss you, that’s all.”

 

“That’s all,” he repeated.

 

He looked like she’d hurt him, and she knew she had. Everyone else seemed to understand that her coldness was a bravado, a shield. Sansa pushed through it, Gendry dismissed it, but Robb had always flinched away from it like he’d touched hot ice.

 

Something so cold it burned.

 

She didn’t want to burn him. It wasn’t his fault that he was the love of her life.

 

“Plus you _lied_ ,” she tried to tease and he looked back over at her, curious at her change in tone, “You told me you wouldn’t take Grey Wind away from me.”

 

He looked at her and shook his head, walking back to her bed to sit down. He stroked Grey Wind’s fur thoughtfully.

 

“What if I didn’t?,” he asked after a few moments.

 

“What you’re just going to _give_ me your dog?,” she scoffed and he looked at her, “Robb don’t be ridiculous. He’s… he’s a _part_ of you - you can’t just leave him behind!”

 

“Not forever,” he said quietly, looking down at Grey Wind and smiling sadly as he leaned his head on his leg, looking up at him. “Just until we get settled.”

 

Her mouth went dry and she felt dizzy, “W-we?”

 

He nodded and looked up at her, “We’d been talking about it for a while. Roslin and I…before everything happened.”

 

_Your face would be the loveliest thing this world has ever seen if it weren’t for this heart of yours._

 

“Oh,” she tried to smile, “Oh how wonderful.”

 

“I just figure we’ve been dating for a couple years now and I haven’t been spending as much time with her as I should and we ought to give it a try and -“

 

_Tell me how to stop._

 

“You don’t have to convince me,” she interrupted him and he looked at her. He looked like a scared little boy. She knew everyone else didn’t really care for Roslin, and she didn’t either, but she loved him. She was so terribly in love with him and she’d meant what she’d said. She’d never bet against his happiness. Even if it meant actively working against her own. So she sat down on the bed next to him and smiled, “I think it’s a lovely idea.”

 

“You’re so good at it,” he smiled.

 

“At what?,” she wondered.

 

“Lying,” he said and she felt like she’d been slapped. His eyes crinkled at her though and he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I never know what is really going on in this mind of yours.”

 

“Maybe you’re just not paying enough attention,” she pointed out breathlessly, because his fingers were still on the shell of her ear.

 

“Believe me,” he exulted, rubbing it once and then dropping his hand, “That is not the problem.”

 

His hand landed on Grey Wind and he stroked him softly.

 

“He and Roslin don’t get on all that well,” he said, “And I just want to give her a chance to get comfortable…”

 

He was so good, so caring, so thoughtful. He deserved everything he wanted from this world, and if he wanted Roslin, which he clearly did, then she was going to help him have her.

 

“I’m happy to have him for as long as you want,” she told him honestly. She stroked Grey Wind’s head, “What do you say, puppywuppy, want to stay with your girls?

 

He nuzzled into her hand which nudged her against Robb’s, and all of a sudden her hand was in his.

 

His thumb trailed over her knuckle and then he raised her hand and pressed a solemn kiss to the back of it.

 

His lips felt like they seared her and she felt his beard tickling her and she wanted to stroke her fingers over it. She looked at him and found his blue eyes blazing into hers, her heart pitter-pattered and she shivered.

 

“I’m going to miss you too,” he told her.

 

And then he stood up and walked out of her room. He closed the door behind him, as if he knew. She crawled up on the bed and laid down, her face in her pillow, and cried. Grey Wind settled next to her and placed his head between her shoulder blades.

 

_At least a part of him is with me._

 

***

 

His feet felt heavy as he walked down the stairs. He was going to go into his room, but he couldn’t bear to, and instead knocked on the door that soft music was coming out of.

 

“Come in!,” he heard his sister call.

 

He opened the door and saw another beautiful girl and dog laying on the bed. Sansa was also on her computer, Lady lying next to her, as though she too was looking at whatever Sansa was looking at it.

 

“How’re my girls?,” he asked.

 

Sansa grinned at him and then her face fell, “You told her.” He nodded. “How did it go?”

 

He sighed and closed the door, “Exactly like you said it would.”

 

He’d told Sansa his plans that morning. He’d woken up, hungover and groggy, with memories of Ella flooding his mind.

 

There were only pieces though. The look in her eyes that told him she might just love him back. The hand on his chest, seeming to push him away, confirming that she did not.

 

_Robb._

 

He’d been a mess last night, and he remembered her walking into the kitchen. She’d looked like an angel, and he’d wanted to tell her. But he couldn’t, not when she was so kind and warm. He said nothing, because he was afraid he’d tell her everything. All about the fit Roslin had thrown a few Sundays back after she’d found him and Ella in the kitchen washing dishes.

 

_“You never laugh with me that way!,” she raged._

 

She had asked him what they had been laughing about and he couldn’t tell her. She thought he was hiding something, but he wasn’t. He just couldn’t remember. He and Ella always wound up laughing, and it could have been anything - from the tattoo Theon had accidentally gotten to the story his mother had told them that morning about why Rickon was grounded.

 

The fact that he was unable to narrow it down did not help his case.

 

_“You spend all your time with her,” Roslin said, “Don’t try to deny it.”_

 

_“I won’t, yes, I spend tons of time with Ella. We…live together, kind of, it’s only natural…,” he reasoned._

 

_“Well maybe we should,” Roslin suggested._

 

_“We should what?,” he asked._

 

_“Maybe I should move in with you, you know like we talked about a few months back,” she said, climbing into his lap._

 

_“I’d love to spend more time with you, but it being so close to the trial, I don’t think you moving in here is a good idea,” he said, “I need to focus on Sansa right now, and I really need you to understand that.”_

 

_She looked at him, a frown of consternation on her pretty face, “After the trial then. You’ll move out of their house anyway, and we’ll move in together.”_

 

_“After the trial, we’ll talk about it, alright? I don’t want us rushing into something because of an argument…,” he said._

 

 _“Rush? Rush?! Friends of ours have met and married since we’ve been together, Robb. We were planning this_ anyway _and then everything happened and I think I have been VERY patient but enough is enough. I need to be a priority for you, too,” she said, getting off of his lap._

 

_He heard a pop song start blaring out of Sansa’s speakers and then Ella’s squeal. He wondered if they were having a dance party. They used to do that, sometimes, though not since before Ramsay._

 

_He looked towards the door, wanting to go and see. He’d just stand in the doorway, maybe send a snapchat to the group. They’d all be so happy to see her ridiculous 90s dance moves. So would he._

 

_And he wouldn’t mind seeing Ella’s Sprinkler._

 

_“I’m not even a priority for you in this conversation,” Roslin sighed._

 

_She had him there. In fact, she was a lot more right than she was wrong in this whole thing._

 

_He took her gently by the arm and pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her. She felt good in his arms, always had, and he rubbed his cheek against her silky hair._

 

_“You are a priority, and I know I’ve done a shit job of showing you that these past few months,” he said. She held onto his arm and looked up at him. He looked into her warm brown eyes and felt a tenderness for her he hadn’t felt in some time. He leaned down and murmured, “Will you forgive me?”_

 

_“I’ll take it under consideration,” she said, refusing to meet his gaze._

 

_He nuzzled her temple, “Forgive me so we can have make up sex.”_

 

_“Robb!,” she squealed as he picked her up and brought her back over to his bed. He laid her down and laid down next to her, kissing her neck. She sighed happily and he continued his attentions. “You know…”_

 

_“Hmm…,” he said, his hand wandering up her shirt._

 

_She turned towards him and looked up at him with her doe eyes and wrapped her arm around his neck, “If we lived together, we could do this every night.”_

 

_He wanted to roll his eyes, because there was no chance that Roslin would sleep with him every night. They had been going a steady four times a week in the beginning and in the past year it had petered out to two, in the last couple of weeks, none._

 

_“Roslin,” he sighed._

 

_Her eyes flashed in anger, “My friends say I’m stupid to stay with you.”_

 

_He was about to tell her that her friends were idiots, but then he realised how many times they all had told Sansa to break up with Ramsay when he hadn’t treated her nicely. He wondered if she’d ever told him that. He wondered how he reacted._

 

_“Well,” he said, “If I’m not making you happy then maybe we should take a beat…”_

 

_“Is that what you want?,” she practically screeched at him._

 

_“That’s not what I said,” he told her, “But… if… I’m not giving you what you need, then I don’t want to make you unhappy.”_

 

_“Well why don’t you just try harder?,” she snapped. “I mean, do you even remember how hard you chased me at the beginning? Was it just a game? Someone to pass the time with?”_

 

Yes. He could have said. Yes. Ella was dating Trystane and everyone was talking about a proposal and he couldn’t just wait around. He’d missed his shot, dating Jeyne. He’d missed his window.

 

So he threw himself head first out of a different one.

 

Instead he said _of course not_. They talked and somehow when he woke up the next morning she’d kissed him goodbye and said “ _Bye roomie_.”

 

At the time he hadn’t known that he was in love with Ella. But he knew enough to know that Roslin deserved better.

 

He’d been afraid to tell Sansa. She’d never liked Roslin, but she had just hugged him and told him that if it would make him happy, it would make her happy, and that he’d always have a home with her.

 

And she’d told him that he had to tell Ella, alone. That he couldn’t announce it at Sunday dinner. That she deserved to know ahead of time. That she deserved to hear it from him.

 

He knew that. He had known that. But Sansa’s weighted tone had made it impossible to chicken out. And after how it had just gone, he was glad that he had.

 

It had gone exactly as Sansa had promised. That Ella would be upset, but gracious.

 

Though he hadn’t told Sansa everything.

 

“Is she alright?,” Sansa asked as he sat next to her on her bed.

 

“I think so,” he told her, “She said she thinks it’s a lovely idea.”

 

Sansa nodded, “Sounds like Ella.”

 

“Sansa I… I asked her if she’d hold onto Grey Wind for a little while,” he said.

 

She turned to him and grinned, “You’re so _good_ , that was so thoughtful. I’m sure she’ll love having him for a little while longer.”

 

“Well um…,” he said, not totally eager for her to stop looking at him like that and said, “Well the thing is… I asked her because of Roslin. She and him don’t get along…”

 

She opened her mouth to say something, her eyes flickering in understanding, and leaned her head back against the wall. He did the same.

 

“Lady never liked Ramsay,” she said after a long while. He looked at her and watched as she stroked her dog’s head, “She’s so sweet, she’s always been so sweet. But… she hated him. Viciously. I didn’t understand until the first time he hit me. I… came home and Ella wasn’t here. I just sat on the floor and Lady came over to me and looked at me. She just looked at me.”

 

It didn’t matter that Ramsay was in jail. It didn’t matter that he’d rot there. That wasn’t justice. Not for what he had done to her.

 

“I know that Roslin isn’t Ramsay,” she went on, “But these dogs… they’re a part of us,” she said. Just like Ella had. “You remember, how we found them. We were always meant to have them. She chose me, just like Grey Wind chose you.”

 

“They’re just dogs, Sansa,” he said as gently as he could.

 

“Maybe,” she allowed and then asked, as though she was just wondering, “Where is Grey Wind now?”

 

“You know where he is.”

 

_At least a part of me is with her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll still with me and these idiots? 
> 
> next chapter will be lighter and more drama-y


	6. Chapter 6

“I can’t go out wearing this!,” Sansa protested.

 

Ella looked over at her and smiled and nodded, “Yeah, Dovey. You can.”

 

They were planning on going to The Forge. Now that the trial was long over over, Sansa’s therapist had been encouraging her to get back into a more active personal life. They’d gone for High Tea last week, and to the movies the night before, and tonight they were going to try to get to their favorite pub.

 

Gendry owned it and more often than not all their friends ended up their at some point on nights out. Even still, they’d tried a few times before and had made it halfway there and Sansa had asked to turn around.

 

She knew how much bravery it was taking Sansa to do it. She knew what must be running through her mind. The loud laughter of the ageing frat bros, the way the bar always got crowded late at night, the way alcohol might affect her or any one of them.

 

So when they’d started getting ready and Sansa had been looking forlornly at her closet, full of pretty, delicate, sparkly things, Ella had said _Just wear whatever makes it bearable._

 

She’d been catching up on some emails as Sansa went into her bathroom to get dressed - they used to not care about being naked in front of one another, but Sansa didn’t like her to see her scars - and had come out wearing jeans and an oversized rugby shirt that Robb must have left here.

 

The old Sansa never would have worn it outside of the house unless it was for a theme party. It was baggy and completely hid her shape, and she could pull the sleeves down to cover her hands.

 

“I’ll _prove_ it to you,” Ella said and hopped off her bed. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted crew neck sweater, but she went into her bedroom and tugged it off and pulled on a baggy sweatshirt of Gendry’s. She slipped on a pair of sneakers and pulled her hair up into a bun. She walked back into Sansa’s room and put her hands on her hips, “See? Now you’re _over_ dressed.”

 

Sansa’s mouth popped open in surprise and then she grinned, “El you don’t have to do that.”

 

She furrowed her brow and grinned, “But I’m so much cozier now,” she crossed over to her and took her hands in hers, “And we aren’t going there to be noticed, are we? This is your life - and we’re going to take it back, piece by piece.”

 

Sansa looked at her and breathed deeply and nodded. She let go of her hands and pulled her own hair up into a ponytail which made Ella squeal and throw her arms around her - because it was vulnerability, the surest indicator of strength.

 

They let Lady and Grey Wind out, giving them treats and making sure their water bowl was filled and then headed out into the cool spring air.

 

“Do you want to take a taxi or should we walk?,” she asked.

 

Sansa was silent for a moment and then asked, “Can we take a taxi?”

 

Ella hooked her arm through hers and said, “ _We_ are Sansa Stark and Ella Baratheon - we can do whatever we want.”

 

She pulled Sansa over to a corner and stuck her hand out. Three taxis came screeching to a halt in front of them. She looked at Sansa and winked.

 

Sansa giggled, “So much for not being noticed…”

 

Ella chuckled as they piled into the taxi and she gave the driver the address. The ride over was full of the normal gripes about work and Ella’s complaints about her mother - which Sansa always devoured like it was her favourite reality tv show.

 

When they got to The Forge it was already pretty busy, and Ella took Sansa’s hand in hers and led her over to the end of the bar where Gendry tended to be.

 

He was pouring some whiskey when he saw them and he _wooped_ in delight and rung the bell behind the bar.

 

“NEXT ROUND IS ON ME!,” he shouted and the bar erupted in cheers.

 

She grinned at Sansa who’s cheeks were pink and they settled into seats, accepting a lemon drop martini and a dry martini respectively.

 

Gendry started telling them about a fight that had broken out between Lommy and Hot Pie - full of expletives and overdramatic rhetoric.

 

“Myrcella?,” she heard a deep voice ask from her side.

 

She turned still laughing and grinned wider when she saw who it was.

 

“Dicky!,” she said, “How are you?”

 

He smiled and then stepped forward and kind of awkwardly hugged her. She hugged him back and gave him a sympathetic smile. For someone as gorgeous as he was, he really didn’t know how to speak with women.

 

“I’m good, how are you? You look _beautiful_ ,” he told her earnestly and she smiled at him.

 

“Hi Dickon,” Sansa said.

 

His brow furrowed and he turned and looked at her, “Sansa! Hey? Sorry I um… didn’t see you there…” Sansa grinned at him and he shook his head, “Anyway, how are you?”

 

“Good, Dickon, thanks,” Sansa said and then turned back to Gendry.

 

Dickon turned back to her and smiled sheepishly, “I was um… going to call you after our d- after the gala a while back. I had a really good time.”

 

“I did too,” she told him.

 

He scratched his jaw, “But then I heard some stuff and… I wasn’t sure if you were dating Stark?”

 

Her stomach plummeted and both Sansa and Gendry stopped talking and turned to look at her. She felt herself go red and shook her head.

 

“N-no,” she said.

 

Sansa took pity on her and embellished, “He’s with Roslin, they’re living together.”

 

Dickon’s face went pure white, “They’re _living_ together? I…heard they broke up.”

 

“From who-,” Gendry started but they were all interrupted.

 

“ _Holy shit, Tarly_ ,” a douchey voice cut into their conversation, sidling up to him and throwing his arm around him, “You sure do now how to find the hidden beauties,” he had a glazed look in his eye as he surveyed them and Ella fought the urge to shudder. She could feel him undressing her and she wanted to plant herself in front of Sansa so she didn’t feel the same. His eyes stayed on her for a moment though and he said, “You know you should really consider a dress or something - I’ll be that body is just _begging_ to be seen.”

 

She glared at Dickon and asked, “And who is your charming companion?”

 

Dickon blushed and said, “Guys this is Harry, we were in Sigma Chi together…”

 

A fraternity brother. Shocking.

 

By this point Harry had turned his attentions to Sansa, “What are you drinking? I’ll buy you something better.”

 

“Her drinks are on me,” Gendry interjected.

 

Harry blinked at him and then turned to her, “Well how about you, beautiful? You’re giving me some angry vibes which I am _into_.”

 

In any other situation she might have laughed. He was too ridiculous for words. But Sansa had pulled the sleeves of her shirt over her hands and was retreating into herself.

 

“Hers too,” Gendry said.

 

Harry now glared at him and said, “You can’t Bogarte all the hot girls.”

 

Gendry chuckled, “Well one thing, it’s my bar, so I can do whatever I want, and for another, she,” he said, pointing at her, “Is my sister, and she,” he said pointing at Sansa, “Is my future sister-in-law, so you’re going to want to fuck off.”

 

Harry was an idiot, a drunken idiot, who clearly underestimated how serious Gendry was. Before it all happened, Gendry probably would have let her or Sansa handle him. He enjoyed watching them verbally disembowel drunken idiots who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. But this wasn’t before.

 

None of them would ever be the same again.

 

Which is why when Henry reached for Sansa, Ella saw red and launched herself off of her stool and pushed him away from her.

 

“Don’t touch her!,” she growled at him.

 

“Calm down bitch,” Harry spat at her, looking down at her menacingly.

 

“Harry - Jesus,” Dickon said and pulled him away.

 

“Get him the fuck out of here, Dickon - and don’t ever bring him back if you want to get in here again,” Gendry said.

 

She wasn’t sure when he’d gotten to her side, but she felt better with him at it.

 

Dickon nodded, muttering apologies and push Harry outside. She and Gendry turned to Sansa who had hunched herself over and was staring at the floor. She looked completely submissive.

 

“Dovey,” she said as softly as she could, “I’m so sorry I freaked.”

 

Sansa shook her head and looked up at her, “I’m sorry.”

 

“You have nothing to apologise for,” Gendry answered before she could.

 

Sansa let out a heartbroken little laugh, “Do you _know_ what Ella or I would have said to that idiot a year ago? We would have played ping pong with his ego, and now it’s like… you all are on overdrive _all_ of the time.”

 

She and Gendry looked at one another, because that was accurate. She wasn’t sure any of them had relaxed in the past eight months. But that wasn’t Sansa’s fault.

 

“We just love you,” she said and Sansa smiled at her and nodded, taking her hand. “Do you want to go home? It was a great first try…”

 

Sansa shook her head and squeezed her hand, “No I want to stay.”

 

She smiled and nodded at her, sitting back down.

 

“All your drinks are on me,” Gendry said, “But especially this one. What’ll it be?”

 

Sansa smiled at him, “Just some ice water… _brother_.”

 

Ella grinned and turned to Gendry who’s eyes went wide and cheeks went red.

 

Ella rested her elbow on his shoulder and looked up at him, “Do you have something to share with the class?” Gendry turned and scowled at her and she stuck her tongue out at him and handed him her martini glass, “I’ll have another.”

 

Sansa chuckled and Gendry rolled his eyes and went behind the bar.

 

“That was a little weird…,” Sansa said to her once had had.

 

She furrowed her brow, “Why? He’s _obsessed_ with Arya.”

 

“No,” Sansa shook her head, “What Dickon said about Roslin and Robb…”

 

Things started fluttering in Ella’s stomach. She hated that she still felt like this.

 

Robb had moved out two months ago and it felt like she’d hardly seen him since. He’d missed more Sunday dinners than he’d come to, and though he had a weekly dinner with Sansa and Arya, he rarely came by the house anymore.

 

She loved having Grey Wind, but she knew that he missed Robb, and had taken to following her all over the house. He even came into the bathroom with her these days. She’d worked late one night and he’d wrapped himself around her when she got home.

 

Like he was afraid she was going to abandon him.

 

She’d asked Robb about it the last time she’d seen him, whether he wanted Grey Wind back and he’d mumbled something about redecorating and asked whether she minded having him a little while longer.

 

She was a little angry at him. Which felt healthy and right. But she loved him all the same.

 

She nodded, “It was weird, I wonder who Dickon heard that from.”

 

Sansa rolled her eyes and took a sip of water, “I’ll give you one guess.”

 

“Sansa…,” she chided.

 

Sansa slammed the water glass down, “Don’t Sansa me - we all know she was texting Dickon before. I don’t think she’s as committed to him as he is to her.”

 

_Your face would be the loveliest thing this world has ever known if it wasn’t for this heart of yours._

 

“Maybe she is,” she sighed. Sansa fixed her with a look and she shrugged, “Look Dovey, all I’m saying is we don’t know what goes on behind closed doors.”

 

Sansa opened her mouth to protest and then nodded, “You’re right. I of all people should know that.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Ella promised, “I just… how much do any of us really know about other people’s relationships? It’s easy to say that she’s a bitch or whatever, but… from her perspective, Robb essentially ignored her for six months. What was she supposed to think?”

 

“He didn’t ignore her,” Sansa said loyally.

 

Ella took a sip of her martini and amended, “Fine, he didn’t ignore her. But every night that he spent sleeping in a chair by your bed or mine was another night that he wasn’t with her.”

 

Sansa’s mouth popped open and she scrunched her nose adorably, “Okay, I see your point. But I still don’t like her.”

 

“That’s fair,” Ella agreed, and then plastered a fake smile on her face, “But don’t say it again, because she’s here…”

 

Sansa turned quickly and waved and then turned back to Gendry and said, “I’ll have seventy five shots please.”

 

Ella lifted her hand in a pathetic wave at Robb, Theon and Roslin as they made their way through the bar. Gendry did in fact pour Sansa a shot and then one for her as well. She nodded at him and threw it back, picking up Sansa’s water and gulping some down.

 

“Sunshine!,” Theon exclaimed, both in greeting to her but also as a way of letting Sansa know he was approaching.

 

He had been the biggest surprise of all throughout this. So often she’d been afraid that he’d act like a bull in a china shop, the way Rickon could sometimes even with the best of intentions, but he seemed to have an innate understand of what Sansa needed. He’d grown in the last eight months into a man she never would have imagined him capable of being.

 

Because the truth of the matter was Theon Greyjoy loved Sansa Stark with all of his heart. Ella felt a kinship with him for that.

 

A pair of fools who loved a pair of Starks without conditions, or hopes, or any chance of happiness.

 

She opened her arms to him and he picked her off the chair in a bear hug, “Fucking save me from them,” he whispered in her ear.

 

“That bad?,” she asked.

 

“There was a ten minute argument about _brunch_ ,” he lamented.

 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that and she pulled away from him and smiled at Roslin and Robb. They looked pretty loved up now, Roslin’s hand on Robb’s chest and his arm around her shoulders as they spoke to Sansa.

 

“Well Greyjoy,” she said, because she didn’t like the way they looked so beautiful and right together, “I think it’s time I beat your behind in pool.”

 

“First for everything,” he grinned, though they each won about half the time.

 

Roslin looked over at her, as though she had just seen her and scrunched her nose, her eyes moving down her body. They trailed back up and then she gave her a small smile. 

“I’m so jealous,” Roslin said, “I wish _I_ could go out like that.”

 

“It’s a pretty advanced technique of putting on clothes and walking out of your house wearing them, but I’m sure we could teach you,” Sansa stepped in.

 

_Atta girl Dovey!_

 

She had missed her so much. The quickness, the sharpness. Even through her darkest days she had been unflinchingly loyal, but Sansa hadn’t shown this side of herself in some time.

 

Robb clearly agreed because he chuckled and Roslin glared at him. He shrugged and said, “It was funny.”

 

_So you’re still in there too._

 

Roslin shrugged and said, “I could never do it, I have too much pride.”

 

Roslin looked her dead in the eyes as she said it, a challenge in them. Ella had never been one to be intimidated by a mean girl, least of all Roslin Frey.

 

“Too much pride,” she repeated with a smile, “And not enough manners. Greyjoy?”

 

She shot Sansa a look who nodded at her and she and Theon walked towards the pool table. She grabbed two pool sticks as Theon racked and she handed him one.

 

“Maybe I should take both of those,” Theon said, “Who knows what you’ll do with it.”

 

“I could think of a few things,” she seethed and took the first shot, making the balls scattered across the table.

 

“You’re better than her,” he said.

 

“I know,” she sighed, “I think about it. A lot. In bed. Alone.”

 

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, “Well if you ever want company, I’m happy to brainstorm with you…”

 

She chuckled and pushed him off of her and took another shot which she missed horribly.

 

Theon came back to her and took the stick from her hands, pulling her to him and tilting her face up to his.

 

“He knows it too,” he said.

 

“Theon,” she sighed.

 

“Don’t,” he shook his head, “You put on a brave face for all of them and I get it. You don’t want Arya and Sansa to have to choose between you. You don’t want Gendry to kick his ass. I get it. You’re a class fucking act Baratheon, and I love you for it, but you don’t get to bullshit me.”

 

“You have too much faith in me,” she said, looking into his earnest sea foam eyes. “The truth is… it just hurts too much to admit it. The way you’re looking at me right now…,” she said, fighting to keep her lip from trembling, “It hurts.”

 

He cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips to her forehead.

 

He released her and took his first shot, making it easily and took another.

 

“Theon?,” she wondered. “How do you do it?”

 

“It’s all about angles…,” he said.

 

She rolled her eyes, “I know how to play pool. How do you do it… pretend that you don’t love her?”

 

He looked at her and sighed and went back to shooting, “Because if I admit it, I lose her. It’s all about angles.”

 

She opened her mouth to offer some comfort or change the subject or _something_ but Robb came over.

 

“I’ve got winner,” he said.

 

“I think you’ll be playing Theon,” she informed him.

 

Almost as though he meant to, Theon missed the next one.

 

Almost as though he meant to.

 

She glared at him and he shrugged, taking Robb’s beer out of his hands and taking a sip.

 

She walked around the table to the side they were standing on, because that was where she needed to be to take her next shot.

 

“Sorry do you um…,” she said to Robb.

 

He just stared at her for a moment, and then blinked a few times and moved. She bent over the table and took her shot, which went in, and she took another. And another.

 

“I hope you’re not picturing Roslin’s face,” Robb said from behind her.

 

She straightened up and looked at him.

 

“I’d like to apologise,” she said.

 

He shook his head, “You don’t have to.”

 

“Good,” she nodded, taking another shot and sinking another ball, and then looked back at him, “Because I said that I’d _like_ to, not that I was going to.”

 

“El,” he sighed.

 

“Don’t,” she held up her hand, “Don’t say anything.”

 

He looked at her and furrowed his brow, “What so I can’t speak to you anymore?”

 

“Given your behaviour lately, I can’t imagine that could possibly matter to you,” she shrugged and sunk another ball.

 

It appeared she was angrier at him than she’d thought.

 

She went to go take another shot but he grabbed the pool stick, covering her hand in his. She hated the fact that it sent an electric current through her veins.

 

She forced herself to look up at him. She wanted to turn away from the hurt in his eyes but she couldn’t. Instead she let him see the hurt in hers.

 

“Do you even know why I’m wearing this?,” she asked.

 

“I can guess,” he said softly.

 

“And yet you said _nothing_ ,” she said, “Do you _know_ how hard I worked to get Sansa here tonight? Do you know how many times we’ve gotten halfway here and had the taxi turn around? And _all_ that progress could have gone right out the door just so that… what? I’d feel bad about the way I look?”

 

His jaw muscle clenched and he was still holding her hand and she just wanted to shake him or kiss him or _something_.

 

“She… has issues when it comes to you,” he said.

 

“Yeah well I’m starting to have issues with her too,” she said.

 

_Because she’s telling people you’ve broken up._

 

_And she’s taking you away from your friends._

 

_And she’s taken you away from me._

 

“Ella I don’t know what you want me to say,” he sighed.

 

“I told you,” she shook her head, “Nothing. Here, you play Theon. I should get going.”

 

“It’s early,” Robb protested, as though they were just hanging out and having fun.

 

“Grey Wind gets nervous when I’m gone too long,” she told him, and then twisted the knife, “I wonder why that is.”

 

Robb let go of her hand and stepped back as though she’d struck him. She turned to walk away but couldn’t bear to leave it like that.

 

She turned back around and said, “We’re cooking pot roast tomorrow. I’d love it if you… _all_ could make it.”

 

Theon gave her a sad smile and Robb couldn’t even look at her.

 

She walked towards where Sansa and Roslin were sitting and Sansa turned and took one look at her and got off her bar stool.

 

“Let’s go home,” Sansa said and she nodded.

 

They walked out without another word to Roslin and this time Sansa was the one who held out her hand for a taxi. One stopped immediately and she opened the door and Ella slid inside. Sansa gave the driver their cross streets and he started heading that way.

 

“They’ve been arguing a lot,” Sansa said after a moment, “I think that’s why she was so terrible.”

 

Ella nodded, looking out the window so that Sansa wouldn’t see the tears running down her face. When she sniffled Sansa slid over and wrapped her arms around her.

 

“You love him,” she said. “I’m not going to make you say it. I know you can’t say it. But I know you do.”

 

It was like a dam broke and a sob racked her body. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, willing herself to stop crying, but she just started crying harder.

 

“I just want to stop,” she admitted.

 

“You can’t,” Sansa said, leaning her head on her shoulder and rubbing her arm. “Don’t give up on him, Ella. He’ll come to his senses one of these days.”

 

“You have to say that,” she protested.

 

“You’re right,” Sansa deadpanned and in spite of herself she chuckled. She turned to look at Sansa and her best friend wiped her tears from her cheeks, “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Trust me. You’re his great inevitable.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Robb walked into his house quietly. It was about 11:30, and he closed the door softly, doing all the locks one by one.

 

It had been a long day. He wanted a shower and his bed. He wanted Grey Wind.

 

“Where have you been?,” an angry voice asked from behind him.

 

He closed his eyes for a moment, not prepared for the coming onslaught.

 

“The office,” he answered and couldn’t help adding, “Like I said.”

 

He turned around and saw Roslin there in a little black nighty. She looked beautiful, he supposed. He couldn’t really tell anymore.

 

“You were with her weren’t you?,” she demanded.

 

“No,” he said firmly, “I was with a team of ageing lawyers.”

 

She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, “And how am I supposed to know you’re telling the truth?”

 

“Because I don’t lie to you, Roslin,” he sighed, “That’s how. You’re supposed to trust me.”

 

She switched up her tactic and crossed to him and wrapped her arms around his back, “I just missed you, that’s all.”

 

 _I’m just going to miss you, that’s all_.

 

He could have told Roslin that she had a real shitty way of showing it. He could have told her that she had no right to assume he’d been with Ella, considering he’d hardly seen her in months at Roslin’s request. He could have told her that they weren’t going to work if she didn’t trust him. He could have told her that he knew she was texting other guys.

 

But the truth of the matter was, he hadn’t missed her. He never missed her. So what did the rest of it matter?

 

He grabbed her arms as gently as he could and said, “I think we should talk.”

 

Her doe eyes turned livid in a moment, and she wrenched herself out of his grasp, “Fuck you, Robb.”

 

He rubbed his forehead and prepared himself for the verbal dumpster fire that was about to be unleashed upon him.

 

“Roslin, it just isn’t working, I think if we’re honest with ourselves, it hasn’t been working for a long time,” he said. “And I know I’m not making you happy, which is reason enough, but… I’m not happy either.”

 

“Say it,” she said to him, and then pushed him, “Say it.”

 

“Say what?,” he asked, stepping away from her.

 

“The real reason! Be honest with me for once in your whole fucking life, tell me - tell me you love her,” she growled at him.

 

His jaw clenched, holding back a million different retorts. All about the text messages she’d sent to Dickon, and the night she’d gone out with her girlfriends a few months ago and made out with someone else.

 

“No,” he shook his head. _I can’t tell you before I tell her._ “How I feel about her is none of your business.”

 

He knew the slap was coming before it happened. It didn’t feel particularly good but it didn’t hurt either.

 

_Grey Wind gets nervous when I’m gone too long. I wonder why that is._

 

How many times had he replayed those words in his mind over the past month? How many times had he thought of the hurt in her eyes.

 

How much more did her disappointment affect him than Roslin’s ire?

 

How many times had he felt hope at the jealousy he thought he saw in there too.

 

“Goodbye Roslin,” he said, “I’ll stay somewhere else for a few days. Take as much time as you need.”

 

With that he walked out of his house into the warm spring air. He felt lighter in a way, though exhausted all the same.

 

He didn’t consciously make a decision of where to go, but he wasn’t surprised when he ended up in front of the large brick townhouse, with new spring flowers lining the walkway.

 

He pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, knowing that they’d likely be in bed already. He tried to come in as quietly as he could but he heard barking and then footsteps racing down the stairs.

 

“Woah, woah buddy, it’s me,” he said to Grey Wind who came snarling down into the foyer.

 

He heard lighter steps following and then Ella came into view. Grey Wind planted himself in front of her and she all but collided into him.

 

“It’s me, boy,” he said again.

 

Grey Wind relaxed and came forward and sniffed his hand and begrudgingly allowed him to pet him. He scratched him behind the ears and he let out a grunt and plopped down.

 

“Is everything alright?,” Ella asked.

 

He stopped petting Grey Wind, who nudged his hand with his snout until he resumed and looked at her. She was wearing flannel pajama shorts and a sweatshirt, with cashmere socks up to her knees, her hair up in a ponytail, a few escaped tendrils framing her face.

 

It was impossible not to notice how incredibly beautiful she looked.

 

He nodded and shifted, “Yeah um… everything’s alright, but… I need a place to stay for a few days. You have every right to say no but…”

 

She opened her mouth to say something, stepping forward just a bit and then stopped herself and pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands. Her jade eyes looked at him in concern.

 

“Your room is all ready for you,” she told him in a soft voice.

 

As though it had always been is. As though it would always be his.

 

He wanted to tell her everything. That he’d broken up with Roslin and why, though she had probably assumed the first and was aware of the latter. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, for how he’d acted these past few months. For not taking her side more publicly with Roslin that night at The Forge, for staying away, for leaving Grey Wind, for leaving her.

 

“There’s lasagna in the fridge if you’re hungry,” she said though, “But I’ve got an early client meeting so I should go back to bed.”

 

He nodded, “Yeah, yeah go to bed El, thanks. Sorry I woke you.”

 

She waved him off and started walking up the stairs.

 

“Ellie?,” he asked, because he just couldn’t bear it. Her shoulders went rigid at the sound of her nickname. The one he hadn’t used since the night he told her he was leaving. The one that always made him thinking of toes scrunching in wet sand and fireflies dancing in the sky. She turned around quickly and the soft light behind her made her golden hair look like a halo. “I…”

 

_Love you._

 

_Missed you._

 

_Fucked up._

 

There were so many things he could say, so many things he should say, but nothing came out.

 

She looked at him and her eyes softened, “Welcome home, Robb.”

 

It was the first time since he’d broken up with Roslin that he wanted to cry. He managed a smile at her though and she walked up the stairs.

 

He went to pet Grey Wind but he caught air as his dog turned and followed her. He couldn’t blame him, it was the same thing that he wanted to do. And besides, she was his person now. He’d made sure of that.

 

He stood there for a moment and then he checked that all the locks were done, and walked up the stairs to his room. He turned on the light and realised that she’d lied.

 

It wasn’t exactly the way he left it. He had taken the sheets of the bed, but someone had washed them and remade it. He closed the door and went into his bathroom to brush his teeth, and found his shower stocked with the shampoo and body wash that he liked.

 

He brushed his teeth and washed his face and when he looked in the mirror he recognised the face looking back at him for the first time in months. He rubbed his face dry with the clean wash cloth one of them had left ready for him and walked back into his room.

 

He opened up his top drawer and was not surprised to see a few pairs of pajama pants and boxers in there, and he undressed quickly, pulling on a t shirt from a lower drawer.

 

He looked around his room. It was a nice guest room, the _manliest_ of them - which apparently is why he had been given it in the first place. It had a large oak bed and dark blue walls, an old desk from Winterfell in one corner where he had spent many nights catching up on work.

 

His room in his house had been redecorated by Roslin, with new expensive curtains and a light bedspread that he knew Grey Wind would stain almost immediately. It hadn’t really felt like his since he’d moved back in.

 

But this did.

 

 _Welcome home, Robb_.

 

He wanted to go up that last flight of stairs and knock on Ella’s door. He wanted to tell her that this could be a shack in the worst part of town and it would still be home to him because she was here. He wanted to tell her that if she’d just give him a chance he could make her love him. He wanted to ask her if she already did.

 

But he didn’t do any of that. Because it was late, and she had an early client meeting. Because he was a coward and he didn’t want to lose her again. Because he knew that her kindness came free, but her trust would have to be earned back.

 

He thought about that morning he’d woken up, the one after Ramsay’s trial. He had been so certain then, that she’d never love him. So he’d made sure of it by leaving. He wanted to scream at himself _Don’t go, you idiot_.

 

He heard a soft knock on the door and he sprinted to it, opening it up wide. A beautiful girl stood on the other side, a husky at her side.

 

“Dovey,” he smiled.

 

She took one look at him and closed the distance between them, nearly knocking him to the ground with the force of her hug. He caught her to him and held her, thinking of how only months before he couldn’t so much as touch her arm.

 

“Oh I missed you,” he said, squeezing her tighter.

 

She squeezed him back and said what all Stark children said to one another to let them know that they didn’t have to be brave any longer.

 

“I’m here.”


	8. Chapter 8

Ella woke up with the taste of liquor still in her mouth. She’d been up late, could still remember the first shot of tequila. And the second. She thinks there was a third but would need second confirmation.

 

She heard someone snoring next to her and she squeezed her eyes shut.

 

 _No, no, no_.

 

She turned to look. It was a _man_. She hadn’t seen a man in her bed in, well, too long, but this was not the way she wanted to find one.

 

She lifted her covers and saw that she was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt… and a pearl necklace, for some reason. She got the courage to look at the man again and saw that he had curly hair. Curly brownish, reddish hair.

 

_Oh my god._

 

_No, no, no._

 

How many times had she dreamed of waking up next to him? Countless. But after a night of drinking on day two following his break-up wasn’t exactly the recipe for lasting romance.

 

She got out of bed as quietly as she could, tip-toeing to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth.

 

“Sneaking out of your own bed, that’s cold-hearted, Sunshine,” a sleepy, yet cocky, voice said.

 

She whirled around and instantly felt dizzy, “ _Theon!?!_ ”

 

“Oh my god, lower volume please, Baratheon,” he groaned, rolling over and exposing his half naked - or at least she _hoped_ it was only half naked - form.

 

“Why are you in my bed?,” she asked.

 

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, holding his hand out for her and looking at her with a small smile, “Because I’m in love with you, I’ve always been in love with you, and last night for ten beautiful seconds, we finally consummated that love.”

 

Her mouth dropped open and he gave her his movie star grin and then he let out a cackle.

 

“You are so _dead_!,” she yelled at him and ran forward and tackled him.

 

He caught her easily as though she were nothing more than a puppy and hugged her to him.

 

“Theon I can’t _breathe_ ,” she growled, though in truth it felt nice to be held.

 

He chuckled and loosened his grip, but didn’t let her go, “You’re such a brat, Baratheon. And it’s incredibly sexy. But alas, I am not and never have been in love with you.”

 

He said it like it would be easier if he were. Like he wouldn’t even mind it being unrequited if it meant that he didn’t have to love Sansa anymore. She understood what that was like, she’d give nearly anything not to love Robb. To not be _in_ love with him, to love him the way she loved Theon.

 

“Bully for me,” she sighed, holding his arms and placing her forehead against his cool neck.

 

He stroked her hair and pulled the covers up over them, and she wondered at the last time he’d just cuddled with someone. He dealt with his heartache differently than her, a different girl every week, but she knew he felt it all the same.

 

“I was a little surprised to see you in bed alone last night,” he told her sleepily.

 

“Sansa and I do love a sleepover,” she acknowledged.

 

“No um… fuck that’s hot though,” he said and she chuckled, “You and Stark seemed to be pretty loved up.”

 

“Loved up-,” she started to ask, but then memories flooded her mind.

 

_“No no wait,” she giggled, “That’s not the way… that’s not the way it sounds at all…”_

 

_He chuckled, “All right then, show me how it’s done…”_

 

_She opened her mouth to try but couldn’t manage to stop laughing._

 

_“I… I can’t,” she giggled. She slid down the wall she was leaning against until she was sitting on the floor and Grey Wind’s head immediately found her lap. She stroked his head, “Oh puppywuppy, you are impossible to impersonate.”_

 

_He looked up at her as though it was alright and she grinned down at him._

 

_All of a sudden Robb slid down as well on the opposite side of the narrow hallway, his legs extending next to hers. He reached over her legs and pet Grey Wind and then all of a sudden her hand was in his._

 

_She looked down at it and smiled. Those hands looked very nice with one another._

 

_“Thank you,” he said softly and she looked over at him, raising her brow. “For um… watching him, these past few months. When I asked I didn’t really think it would be so long.”_

 

_“Just until you got settled,” she remembered. And the gin in her bloodstream asked, “Did you ever? Get settled, I mean.”_

 

_“No, not really,” he sighed, “I moved home but…it didn’t really feel like it.”_

 

_She squeezed his hand, because that had to be one of the saddest things she’d ever heard._

 

_“I’m so sorry,” she lamented._

 

_He interlaced his fingers with hers, “I think that’s my line.”_

 

_“Robb…,” she demurred._

 

_“You can’t even look at me,” he let out a sad little chuckle._

 

_“You left,” she said softly, so softly she wasn’t sure if he heard. But he squeezed her hand to tell her that he did. To tell her that it was okay. Okay that she was angry and sad. Okay to tell him so. “For half a year I saw you every day. And then you just… left… and I… I want to be angry at you for leaving Grey Wind and for leaving Sansa because you did and I am… but the truth is, you left me too. And you never told me why.”_

 

_He sighed, “The why doesn’t matter.”_

 

_“It matters to me,” she told him._

 

_Did you leave because you loved her? Or because you knew that I love you?_

 

_“Can’t it… for tonight… just be enough that I regretted it from the start, and that given the choice… I’d never make the same mistake again?,” he asked._

 

_She looked into his pleading eyes and nodded, “That’s enough. For tonight.”_

 

_He stood up and pulled her up with him, and she found herself with her back once again against the wall. She looked up at him, and he was standing so very close to her, and she could smell the cologne Sansa had bought him for his last birthday and the whiskey on his breath._

 

_And he was looking at her like he couldn’t quite understand why he’d left her either._

 

_“One of these days,” he told her, “You’re going to trust me again. And on that day… if you still want to know, I’ll tell you why I left.”_

 

_He was so handsome, with a day of scruff on his face and his soft navy blue sweater. He looked so beautiful and sad and a little bit lost - even though his eyes sparkled with the fervour of the pious._

 

_“What if I said I trust you now?,” she wondered._

 

_He smiled sadly down at her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “Then you’d be lying. And that’s okay. You don’t have to curb this blow for me, Ellie.”_

 

_“You only call me that when you’re sad,” she realised. “Why?”_

 

_“Because when I think of you as a little girl, it puts everything into perspective. I think of your golden ringlets and nose, pink from the sun, and I realise how far away we’ve gotten from the lives we were meant to have. And sometimes I think if that little girl knew that this is who I was going to be - she never would have called me her favourite knight, she never would have come to me during thunderstorms. And when I’ve disappointed you, I can’t help but remember that I’ve disappointed her too.”_

 

_“Robb,” she whimpered, reaching out and holding his cheeks, “I knew… I knew the boy that little girl loved. And he was brave and good. But those kids… they were just… children. They didn’t understand everything that was going to happen to them. They didn’t understand that they were going to lose people they loved, and a part of themselves as well. Sometimes I think I’ve disappointed her too, she was so strong, and willful. But she was kind too, and I think she’d want me to tell you that - you’re doing a lot better than you think.”_

 

He’d pulled her to him then and kissed her forehead and then he’d walked away. She wasn’t sure where he’d ended up, but Arya was calling her for another round of shots.

 

So there had been three tequila shots.

 

“He’s lost, Theon,” she told him, “I… I was so angry at him for leaving us, for leaving me. And I think I didn’t realise that… he’d left himself most of all. How… how could I not see it?”

 

“I’ve asked that question to myself a lot about Sansa. I love her, how the fuck didn’t I see it?,” he told her, “And I realised that it’s actually because I love her. Everything was so easy for me to explain away by her just not loving me back.”

 

She thought about it, that night Robb had come to tell her that he was leaving. The nights he’d stayed away. How many times had she blamed herself for loving him. That she’d made him uncomfortable somehow, that he didn’t want to hurt her, that every second he spent with her was another moment he was away from Roslin and he couldn’t stand it.

 

“Sansa is coming back,” she said, pulling the blanket under her chin, “Did you see her last night? Dancing?”

 

“Please don’t talk about it,” Theon said in a tight voice.

 

She giggled and nodded. He’d seen it.

 

“We’ll get him back too,” she said. “Bit by bit.”

 

“You ever think about just telling him?,” he asked her, releasing her a little so she had to look at him, “Just telling him you love him?”

 

“Do you ever think about telling her?,” she wondered.

 

He sighed, “That’s different.”

 

_Fuck you, Ella._

 

_Excuse me?_

 

_You heard me. Were you going to fucking tell me that was your plan?_

 

_Were you going to tell me?_

 

_That’s different._

 

“I keep hearing that,” she said, “I’m so sick of hearing that. Why isn’t it the same? Why doesn’t my heart count as much?”

 

“It’s not that it doesn’t count,” he sighed, “It’s just that it doesn’t have to feel like this.”

 

***

 

“Do you want milk?,” he asked.

 

“Shut _up_ ,” Arya groaned, and then took the carton of milk out of his hands.

 

They were like the walking wounded. Honestly, it reminded him of the first party Theon threw when they were in high school, none of them knew their limits. They were adults now though, there was no excuse.

 

He sipped his coffee, closing his eyes as he did, and prayed for it to do its duty. It was entirely possible that he had drank everything last night. Though, from the looks of his fallen comrades, he must have shared.

 

“I’m… I’m going to…,” Gendry said and then his chair screeched back and he ran towards the downstairs powder room.

 

“Robby,” Sansa whimpered and leaned her head against his shoulder, “What did I do?”

 

“Cartwheels,” Arya offered, “In the foyer.”

 

He nearly spit out his coffee, because he had forgotten that part of the evening. But she had indeed done cartwheels in the foyer. Shots in the kitchen. A dance party in the living room.

 

And she’d worn a tank top.

 

It was in the privacy of her own home, with only her closest friends, but even still.

 

He remembered when he used to lament her wearing a tank top out, or a pretty dress. She didn’t need anything to make her stand out.

 

She’d told him once how archaic that thought was, and how wrong.

 

_I wear pretty things because I like to feel pretty. Not because I want other people to think I am._

 

And Ramsay had stolen that away from her. He had determined what she could wear and when, either through orders or through the bruises he gave her.

 

 _No one else gets to see what is mine_ , she had repeated in court, her steely blue gaze on Ramsay as the lawyer showed pictures of her injuries.

 

So when he’d come down the stairs yesterday and had seen Sansa wearing a pretty, sparkly tank top and jeans, taking a selfie with Ella, he had been so proud.

 

“You had fun, Dovey,” he said, wrapping his arm around her, “That’s all.”

 

Gendry came out of the bathroom, looking pale and disappointed in himself, and Arya started to coo at him gently, sitting him down at the table. She was so soft with him, or could be, and he grinned as she broke off little pieces of toast to feed to him like he was a little bird.

 

“Gooood _morning_ , everyone!,” a bright voice called.

 

They all groaned as Ella came into view, Lady, Ghost and Nymeria trailing behind her.

 

Ella had the annoying ability to drink as much as the rest of them and recover in about a tenth of the time.

 

She had her hair up in a ponytail and a high-neck tight white tank top on with one of those built in sports bras. He could just make out her nipples and he hated himself for noticing. She’d paired them with short navy blue running shorts though, so really anywhere he looked was a feast for the eyes.

 

“Oh Gendry,” Ella cooed, stroking her brother’s hair, “Are you alright?”

 

“Fuck off,” he groaned and Ella bit her lip to hide her smile.

 

She walked out the room for a moment and came back in with her running shoes, sitting down and pulling them on.

 

“Do you um,” he said, trying not to imagine how silky her calves must feel, “Want some coffee?”

 

She looked at him and her eyes went wide.

 

_What if I said I trust you now?_

 

But she gave him a bright, friendly smile and shook her head, “No thanks, I’ll grab some when I’m back. Arya, are you heading out anytime soon, or should I take Nymeria?”

 

Arya whimpered and abandoned Gendry in favor of Ella, sitting down in her lap, “Never leave me.”

 

Ella giggled and stroked her hair, “But then _you’d_ have to give Nymeria exercise.”

 

Arya grinned and snuggled into her for a moment before getting up. Ella stood up and stretched her arms this way and that.

 

“Does she need a leash?,” she asked.

 

“Does she have a habit of running at cars like her sister?,” Sansa cooed at Lady.

 

Arya chuckled and shook her head, “No she doesn’t run at cars, but um, squirrels are a bit of an issue. You might want one just to be safe.”

 

Ella chuckled and disappeared again and came back with two leashes, securing one on Nymeria and one on Lady. Grey Wind nudged himself against her side.

 

“You uh, don’t put him on one?,” he asked her.

 

He didn’t want to criticise or anything, considering she was taking his dog for a run and had been doing so for the past few months. And Grey Wind was really well trained and obedient, but even still, when he took him into the busier parts of the city he put him on a leash just in case.

 

Sansa laughed, “He’s more likely to put a leash on her.”

 

Ella looked at him and said, “I can if it makes you feel more comfortable. I did in the beginning but he… sticks to me like a magnet. You trained him so well.”

 

“Hey!,” Sansa and Arya protested.

 

He wanted to tell her that he hadn’t trained him that well. That sometimes with him, another dog caught his interest or a fox. He wanted to tell her that it had nothing to do with obedience at all.

 

Ella grinned apologetically at Sansa and Arya and then pet Lady and Nymeria, “I’m just kidding, girls. You’re very good dogs, aren’t you?,” she asked and their tails wagged, all but nodding their heads, and then she cooed again, “Aren’t _youuu_?”

 

“Do you want company?,” he blurted out.

 

_You fucking idiot._

 

She looked at him incredulously and raised her brow, “Um… do you feel up to it? I was going to do about three miles…”

 

He scoffed, as though he hadn’t been considering vomiting a few minutes ago, and said, “Three sounds like a good start.”

 

_Seriously, you are a fucking idiot._

 

“Well uh, if you’re sure,” she said and then crossed to him. She reached up and he though for a moment she was going to wrap her arms around him but she reached behind him and grabbed a mug out of the cupboard, “I’ll wait.”

 

He was going to tell her that he wasn’t up to it, that he’d go for a run with her tomorrow. He had missed their runs, when it was just them and Grey Wind or Lady in the early morning. Sometimes they spoke, sometimes they didn’t. She always set the pace, he wasn’t sure if she realised it.

 

Grey Wind wasn’t the only one that stuck to her as though a magnetic force was controlling him.

 

But then her lips curled into a small, challenging smile. He wanted to kiss it off of her, but instead he cleared his throat and went to go change.

 

He almost vomited on his way up the stairs and changed quickly, brushing his teeth and splashing cold water on his face as though it would help.

 

He came out of his room and found Theon clomping down the stairs.

 

“Where were you?,” he asked.

 

“Sunshine and I had ourselves a sleepover,” Theon grinned.

 

Jealousy churned in his stomach. He didn’t think anything would have happened. Theon had always loved Ella fiercely, but platonically. Even if he pointed out at every chance he got how unbelievably attractive she was.

 

There was something to that dopey grin though on his face.

 

“Did you?,” he said.

 

Theon nodded, making direct eye contact, “Yep.”

 

He stared at him a moment longer and then turned and headed down the stairs. He walked back in the kitchen to find Ella forcing Gendry to drink some tea.

 

“Ready to go?,” he practically growled.

 

Her head snapped towards him and she nodded, handing the mug to Arya and pressing a kiss to Gendry’s head.

 

They waved at everyone, and he could swear Theon smirked as he walked out, holding Lady’s leash.

 

They got out into the warm spring air and Ella said, “Do you want to head towards the trails in Greenwood Motte Park?”

 

“Sure,” he said in a clipped tone.

 

They took off into a slow jog, Ella holding Nymeria’s leash, him holding Lady’s, Grey Wind at Ella’s side. It was Saturday morning, nearly 11 AM, and there were tons of people out, enjoying the nice day.

 

His annoyance had somehow rid him of his hangover, thankfully, and when Ella increased her speed it felt good.

 

They ran in silence until they got to the park and Ella asked, “Did you see Sansa doing cartwheels last night? She’s really coming back to us.”

 

He hated that she opened with that. It made it impossible for him to be angry with her.

 

“I know, she’s come so far in the past month,” he said, “So whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

 

“It’s all her,” she demurred.

 

“You know that’s not true,” he argued, “You brought her back to life.”

 

He felt her tug on his arm and he stopped. There was a shimmer to her skin now, and her cheeks were flushed, her chest taking in gulps of air, rising and falling as a droplet of sweat traveled down her neck, to her chest, in between her breasts.

 

He was even turned on by her sweat. He was such a pervert.

 

“ _We_ ,” she corrected, “We brought her back to life. None of it would have been possible without you,” he shook his head and she grabbed his arm, “Robb you’re… you’re her Knight in Shining Armour. The man she trusts the most in this world. Don’t… belittle that.”

 

“You’re the one who brings the light out of her,” he said.

 

“And you’re the one who brings the strength,” she said, “She needs us both.”

 

“Did she feel like she’d lost me?,” he asked, “When I moved out.”

 

Her mouth popped open and her jadeite eyes looked up at him in heartbreak, “She wants us to live our own lives.”

 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

 

“You never answer any of mine,” she pointed out.

 

“Did you sleep with Theon?,” he asked.

 

Her brow furrowed and her hand fell of his arm, “Why would you ask me that?”

 

“I saw him, this morning, I know he slept in your room,” he said.

 

“And what if I did?,” she asked, her arms crossing over her chest.

 

“Ella,” he shuddered, “Tell me you _didn’t_. You’re… you’re better than that.”

 

“Maybe I’m not,” she reasoned, “I’m not a virgin, and I’m not a nun.”

 

“Why are you speaking like this?,” he asked.

 

“Well why would you ask me that?,” she asked. “If you’re so sure that I wouldn’t, then why would you ask? Why does it matter to you?”

 

“You know why,” he said.

 

How could she not know? How could she not see his heart?

 

It was right there in her hands.

 

She stepped forward, “I don’t. Everyone keeps saying all these things. Like they’re supposed to mean something. These riddles. Like I’m just supposed to know. So _tell_ me.”

 

“Ella,” he all but whispered.

 

Her eyes trailed down to his lips, he was sure of it, and then back up to his eyes, “Why would it matter? If I had slept with him?”

 

“Because you’re too good for him,” he said, his throat dry.

 

“Girls sleep with boys they’re too good for all the time,” she shrugged, “And he’s your best friend.”

 

“You’re still too good for him,” he argued.

 

“Who is good enough for me?,” she wondered.

 

“No one,” he said honestly.

 

“That sounds very lonely,” she said.

 

“Ella,” he whimpered.

 

“I don’t want to be lonely,” she shook her head, looking down, “I’m sick of it. I want to be happy. Don’t I deserve that?”

 

“Of course you deserve it,” he said.

 

She looked back up at him, her eyes shining, “Help me, then.” He reached for her, pulling her to him. Her body felt so good in his hands. There was desire in her eyes, he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it before. He wanted to take her into the trails and fuck her up against a tree. But he couldn’t do that. He reminded himself of who she was, what she deserved, “Ellie…”

 

The lightness died in her eyes and she removed herself from his grasp.

 

“That’s all I’m ever going to be to you, isn’t it?,” she asked in horror.

 

“No I-,” he started and then shook his head.

 

“I didn’t fuck Theon,” she growled at him, “But I’m not that little girl, anymore, Robb. Let her _go._ ”

 

“I can’t,” he said. _I love her. I’ve always loved her. And she’s a part of you._ “I don’t want to. Ellie you’re -“

 

“I’m not!,” she argued. “I’m a grown woman, I have desires just like everyone else, and I’m not going to live like a nun forever. It wasn’t Theon, but it’s going to be someone, some day. Because the thing is Robb, there _is_ someone worthy of me, but if he doesn’t figure that out soon, I might just have to settle for good enough. After all, it worked for you, didn’t it?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes this is the second chapter I've posted today, but these idiots are killing me.

 

“Are you sure you don’t mind?,” Gilly asked.

 

“Oh please, this is a treat for me,” she promised, squeezing Gilly’s arm and moving to sit on the floor.

 

“Hello Sammy,” she grinned at the beautiful little toddler.

 

He smiled at her and waved, before knocking over the tower he had built for himself out of blocks.

 

“BAAAABUMPSKI,” she said and he chortled adorably.

 

“Oh hello, Ella,” a kind voice said from behind her.

 

“Wellll don’t _you_ look handsome,” she said, as Sam finished tying his tie. “Where are you taking your beautiful wife this evening?”

 

“That’s a surprise I’m afraid,” Sam said, “Thank you for watching him. Our sitter came down with something dreadful.”

 

“Poor thing,” she said, stacking some more blocks for Sammy. “What time does he go down?”

 

“7:30,” Gilly said. Ella looked at her phone, it was already 6:45. This would be a breeze. “He’s eaten and everything, if you don’t mind just changing his diaper before he goes down?”

 

She looked at Sammy who gave her a _who me_ expression and she giggled, picking him up, “Do I mind? Noooo who could resist this face?”

 

He gurgled and pat her cheeks with his little hands. She wasn’t entirely sure which one of them he looked like, but he had his parents’ gentleness and good natures.

 

“Well there is food in the fridge, and we get just about every channel, and if you want Sansa or whoever to come over, that’s fine of course,” Gilly said and Ella grinned.

 

She had never babysat in high school, her mother never would have allowed her to have a job, and she felt a bit like a teenager in exercise clothes on a Saturday night, considering ordering a pizza once she’d put her charge down.

 

“Sam why don’t you go pull the car around, I’ll be right out, I’m just going to give Ella a few more helpful hints,” Gilly said, kissing her husband’s cheek.

 

He nodded and waved at her and walked out the front door.

 

“So, Mummy, impart me with some wisdom,” she pleaded, before covering Sammy’s face in kisses.

 

Gilly grinned as Sam giggled, “Oh no, you’re a natural. I just wanted to see how you were doing? It’s been a while since I’ve had a moment alone with you…”

 

Ella grimaced and nodded, “I know, other than our Sunday dinners I feel like I’ve hardly seen you. I’m sorry, I know I’ve been a bit of a rotten friend.”

 

Gilly waved her off graciously, the way she did everything, “You’ve been a remarkable friend, to the person who needed you most. And I can’t believe the change in her, she’s come so far.”

 

“I know,” Ella grinned, “She’s my inspiration in all things…Queen status.”

 

Gilly nodded, “All hail,” and Ella giggled, “But did I notice a little bit of… tension with you and Robb last week?”

 

Ella sighed and nodded, “Things are a bit weird. I thought… we might be heading somewhere but… he just… he thinks of me as a little girl, you know?”

 

“Is that so?,” Gilly asked and Ella nodded, thinking of how Robb had looked at her like he wanted to kiss her and then thought better of it. As though he couldn’t quite stomach it. “And there’s no one else?,” she asked gently.

 

Ella shook her head, “It’s hard to find someone else when you don’t see anyone else.”

 

Gilly smiled sadly at her and bent down and kissed Sam’s forehead and then hers and left.

 

She looked at Sam who looked at her, “You’re not going to turn into a devil child now are you?” Sam smiled at her. “Uh oh…”

 

He giggled as though to prove his innocence and she set him down and picked up some more blocks and started building them. He smashed them down and then handed them to her, one by one for her to build again.

 

This went on for another fifteen minutes, and then she brought him upstairs and changed his diaper and got him into his pajamas. He crawled over to the little book shelf in his room and pulled out a few books so she picked him up and brought him over to the rocking chair in his room.

 

She sat him on her lap and started reading the books to him as he played with her hair and practiced turning the pages. He leaned his head against her shoulder and the comforting weight of him made her heart ache.

 

She hadn’t given much thought to motherhood. She knew she wanted children, even if the idea of turning into her own mother frightened her nearly enough to talk her out of it, but that was hypothetical. Feeling him in her arms, breathing in the baby scent of him was something entirely different.

 

An image of a little boy with russet curls and green eyes flashed in her mind.

 

_We could call him Ned for his father, or Robert for mine, for him._

 

She took a picture of Sam in her arms and sent it to Sansa with the message _Think they’ll notice if I steal him?_

 

Too soon it was 7:28 and she picked him up once again and laid him down in his crib.

 

“Goodnight, Sammy,” she said, “Sweet dreams.”

 

She turned out the light and went downstairs. She poured herself a glass of water and went into the living room and sat on the couch. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and open her email, scrolling through a bunch of promotional stuff until she saw one that was from _Wintertown University Admissions_.

 

She’d nearly forgotten about her application. Not forgotten, necessarily, but pushed it to the back of her mind. She didn’t like thinking about things she had no control over, and instead had focused on the job she had.

 

She took a deep breath and went to open it, her finger hovering over the email. All at once though she remembered how badly she wanted it. How much effort she had put into her application.

 

_Do you think it’s a bad idea?_

 

_I think you were born to do it._

 

She clicked out of her email and went into her contacts and scrolled down. She pressed his name and held the phone to her ear.

 

The phone had barely started ringing when he picked it up, “El?”

 

“It’s me,” she confirmed.

 

“What’s wrong? You sound freaked out, where are you?,” he asked.

 

She couldn’t help but smile. They were basically in a fight, but there was no shaking Robb Stark of his devotion. It was why she called him. Why she knew she could call him, even now.

 

“I’m okay, I’m at Sam and Gilly’s babysitting Sammy,” she explained.

 

“Oh, okay,” he said, “Sansa um… said you had a _hot date._ ”

 

She chuckled, “Not exactly.”

 

“Good,” he said, which was odd, “So what’s up?”

 

“Do you remember Ramsay’s trial, the day the jury reached the verdict?,” she asked.

 

“I’ll always remember that,” he confirmed.

 

“I mentioned an application, for a graduate program in social work, I don’t know if you remember, it was a really-,” she started.

 

“Oh my god, your essays! I never read them, is it too late? Can you send them to me now?,” he asked.

 

She smiled and shook her head, though he couldn’t see her, “I sent them in…it’s too late, but I just got the email from the admissions office.”

 

“What did it say?,” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

 

He was silent on the other end for a few moments, and then he said the thing that all Stark children said when they wanted you to know that you didn’t have to be brave any longer, “I’m here.”

 

“Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker phone,” she said. She clicked the button, “What if I didn’t get in?”

 

“What if you did?,” he asked.

 

She rolled her eyes and went to her email and scrolled back down to the message.

 

_Dear Miss Baratheon,_

 

_We are delighted to offer you a place in…_

 

“Ella? El? What happened?,” she heard on the other end.

 

“I got in,” she said incredulously. She didn’t have most of the prerequisites for the coursework, having been an Art History major and Politics minor in University. “Robb, I got in!”

 

“Of course you did, sweetheart!,” he exulted, “How could you not? You were born to do this.”

 

She grinned and read the rest of the email. The deposit was due at the beginning of July. They’d want to know if she’d need housing by then as well. Classes began in September.

 

“I didn’t even ask,” he said, “Where did you apply?”

 

“Wintertown,” she said.

 

She heard him sigh, “Thank god. I thought you might be heading home.”

 

“This is home now,” she pointed out.

 

She heard a shaky breath on the other end through the noise in the background.

 

“I’m so proud of you, El,” he said, “Not just for getting in but for giving up what you’re doing now to help people. I know that this job has its perks, but… you’re going to make a real difference. I… I’m just so happy for you, and for all the people who are going to benefit from having you in their lives.”

 

She felt tears fill her eyes and she took him off speaker phone, pressing the phone to one ear and leaning her other cheek against the couch.

 

“I don’t want to be in a fight anymore,” she admitted.

 

“Me either,” he said, “I can’t stand it. You… you mean the _world_ to me, Elli-Ella. I need you to know that.”

 

“I do,” she promised, “I really do.”

 

“We’ll celebrate tomorrow at Sunday dinner, hmm?,” he asked, “I just bought a case of that red wine we like, and I’ll pick up dessert at Nan’s, that lavender cake, your favorite.”

 

“That sounds good, Robby,” she said.

 

Because maybe none of this was his fault, maybe it was all hers. Maybe she’d just loved him the wrong way for too long.

 

“Ellie?,” he said, “Will you do me a favor?”

 

“Of course,” she said.

 

“Send me those essays,” he requested.

 

She furrowed her brow, “I already got in…”

 

“I know, I just would like to read them,” he said. “Will you?”

 

“I have them on my phone, I’ll send them now, but remember I got in so no pointing out any spelling errors or anything, you got it?,” she asked.

 

He chuckled, “Yeah… yeah I got it.”

 

She heard shouting in the background, “Where are you?”

 

“The Forge,” he said, “Theon is hitting on some girl.”

 

“Shocking,” she deadpanned.

 

“I know but it’s _different_ ,” he said, “He’s looking at her all…gooey.”

 

“The way he looks at Sansa?,” she asked.

 

It was silent for a moment and then said, “I never really thought about it, but, yeah. She’s pretty, she looks a little bit like Gendry actually.”

 

She giggled, “Something I should warn Arya about?”

 

He chuckled, “No I just mean that she has the Baratheon look, you know the way you and Tommy look like Lannisters and me and Sansa look like Tully’s. She’s got brown hair and blue eyes and a scar on her right cheek. Oh it looks like Gendry knows her… oh no… why is… GENDRY STOP THAT! Oh my god, El, Gendry just grabbed Theon by his collar and dragged him out of the booth.”

 

She seethed into the phone, “Well he’s lucky that’s all he did.”

 

“What the hell?,” Robb asked her.

 

“That’s our cousin, Shireen. She’s -“

 

“Ooh she’s a Baratheon, for sure. Just smacked Gendry clear across the face and then grabbed Theon and kissed him!” he said excitedly.

 

She covered her eyes and shook her head. Her sweet cousin had just moved to Wintertown. She’d invited her to dinner tomorrow night to introduce her to everyone.

 

Seems like that was no longer necessary.

 

“Get him off of her,” she said.

 

“He’s not _on_ her,” he said, “Oh my…oh my _god_ … GET A ROOM, YOU ANIMALS!” He shouted in horror and then whispered into the phone, “I… are you sure you’re really a Baratheon?”

 

She rolled her eyes, “Yes, I’m a Baratheon. This is…,” she started, but then thought of the gentle way Theon held Sansa, the way he carried her up to her room when she fell asleep on the couch, the sound of his glass hitting the fireplace in his heartbreak, the way he knew she’d never be his. “This could be good for him.”

 

“I don’t know if what I’m witnessing is the start of a lasting romance,” he said and she couldn’t help but giggle.

 

“Believe me,” she said, “Shireen has a way of getting under people’s skin.”

 

“Must be a family trait.”

 

***

 

_I don’t have a number of the official prerequisites for this program, but I have seen trauma - the way it holds you like steel handcuffs, the way it wraps around you like a cocoon - I have prerequisites that can’t be taught in a classroom. I wish I didn’t. I would pull a thousand all-nighters to learn the things I’ve learned in a different way._

 

_Someone who knows me better than anyone told me that I was born to do this. I don’t know if he’s right, I don’t know that this has always been my calling, my divine purpose or anything like that, but I do know that it is what I’m meant to do now._

 

_It takes courage to go on in the afterwards. Courage, and patience, and hope. I want to be that courage for people who are close to giving up. I want to be that patience for people who feel like they are out of time. I want to be that hope for people who can’t see a way out._

 

He got to the end of Ella’s essay and sent her a text message: _How were you worried?_

 

He saw the typing bubbles appear and a moment later he received: _Because I’m unqualified._

 

_Sadly, we both know that’s not true._

 

_Come over early tomorrow, if you’re free. I miss you, Stark._

 

He was typing out a response when he heard lovelorn laughter next to him. He looked to his right and saw Theon and Shireen giggling like a pair of school children, and looked across from him and saw Gendry angrily drying a glass.

 

“Stop pouting, Gendry,” Shireen cooed.

 

“You slapped me,” Gendry pointed out.

 

“Well you were acting like a barbarian,” Shireen reasoned.

 

“I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Gendry pouted.

 

Robb chuckled and finished his beer, “Can I get another? And another one of whatever she’s having.”

 

Shireen turned to him and smirked. She really was a beauty. Porcelain skin and clear blue eyes, silky brown hair. She had Ella’s nose.

 

“Thank you…,” she said.

 

“Robb,” he said, holding out his hand.

 

“Shireen,” she said, shaking his. “Wait, Robb Stark?” He nodded and she grinned, pulling out a stool and sitting on it, “Great to meet you. Now why don’t you tell me what the fuck your problem is?”

 

“Excuse me?,” he asked, looking towards Gendry for help.

 

Gendry merely shrugged as if to say _You’re on your own._

 

“Are you blind?,” she asked.

 

“Um, no?,” he said.

 

“So just deaf, dumb and stupid,” she reasoned.

 

Theon put his arm around her, “Babe…”

 

Shireen turned to him and glared and then grinned and kissed him. She turned back to him with a scowl and said, “You realise that Ella is the most beautiful girl that has ever lived, right?”

 

_Oh._

 

“Yes, I am painfully aware of that fact,” he nodded.

 

“And that she is kind and brilliant?,” she asked.

 

He sighed, “Look I can see where you are going with this and, yes. I know every last one of Myrcella Baratheon’s infinite number of virtues, okay?”

 

“So why exactly is she babysitting on a Saturday night?,” Shireen asked.

 

“Look I’m… I just haven’t figured out how to tell her,” he admitted, “I want to do it the right way.”

 

Shireen moved towards him and for a moment he was afraid she was going to smack him as well but she gave him a sad smile, “There’s no wrong way to tell her. But what you’re doing now? It’s wrong. And it’s hurting her. And if it continues much longer then I am going to have to hurt you. And I can do it too, I’m scrappy.”

 

He chuckled, liking her immediately.

 

“Must be a family trait.”

 

*

 

He popped a breath mint in his mouth and adjusted the bags in his hand so that he could open the door.

 

Months ago it would have been locked. Barred. Now it was open.

 

He opened the door and Grey Wind swept past him, happy to be back in his other home.

 

“Sansa? Ella?,” he called.

 

“In the kitchen!,” he heard Ella’s sweet voice call.

 

He closed the door and hurried inside. She was standing at the stove, stirring something, her blonde hair piled on top of her head revealing her elegant neck. She was wearing grey cotton shorts and an oversized sweatshirt.

 

He set his things down on the table and she turned around.

 

“Hi,” she grinned with her whole body.

 

He felt dizzy, like he was going to be knocked over just from the sight of her. That smile, the happiness seeping out of her.

 

“Hey sweetheart,” he managed.

 

She rushed forward and jumped into his arms, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I was… I’ve been awful.”

 

He hugged her to him, breathing her in, rubbing her back. God she felt so good, so right.

 

“You haven’t,” he said.

 

“I want to be friends again,” she sighed, squeezing him tighter, “I want this… weirdness to go away, I want you in my life, always. I need you. It’s taken such a long time for me to admit it, but I need you, Robb.”

 

He hadn’t realised his eyes were closed until he heard the word _friends_. He opened them, resting his chin on her shoulder as she spoke.

 

“You have me,” he promised, but it sounded hollow to his ears.

 

It was the truth, but so very little of it that it may as well have been a lie.

 

She kissed his cheek and hopped out of his arms.

 

She grinned up at him, “You look nice.”

 

He looked down at his blue and white striped collared shirt and his khakis. He was a bit dressed up for Sunday dinner.

 

“Oh, yeah I… had to go in the office for a few hours this morning,” he lied. She nodded and he looked down at her and his brow furrowed, “Is that my sweatshirt?”

 

Her cheeks went pink and she looked down at herself, hugging her arms around her body, “Yeah, sorry. I found it mixed in with my laundry and… well it’s so cozy. I’ll wash it and give it back to you, promise.”

 

He shook his head, “No um, it looks better on you. Keep it.”

 

She smiled and nodded, going back to the stove, “Can I get you anything to drink? There’s iced coffee in the fridge, and Sansa made some of that special lemonade?”

 

“Lumber’s lemonade??!,” he couldn’t help but exclaim. She turned to him and grinned and nodded and he went to the fridge. It was an old Tully recipe and his mom always made it during the first days of summer. He grabbed out the pitcher and asked, “Do you want some?”

 

She shook her head, “Too sweet for me.”

 

He wanted to say something cheesy like _Yeah you’re already sweet enough_ , but the word _friends_ was running around and around his head.

 

“I got you something,” he told her instead. He went to the table, and picked up the smaller bag, “It’s just a little something, a congratulations.”

 

She turned the heat on the stove down and crossed to him, “You didn’t have to do this,” then grinned and took the bag he was offering, “But I’m _so_ glad you did.”

 

He smiled at her and watched her open it. She undid the wrapping gingerly, though he’d done a terrible job of it, and pulled the small figurine out of the box.

 

There was a small smile on her face as her fingers trailed over it, as though it were made of glass.

 

“A wolf?,” she asked in a soft voice.

 

“I don’t know if you remember this, but there was one night, back when I was living here. You told me that the big bad wolf wasn’t so bad.”

 

She looked up at him in wonder, her brow furrowing as though trying to remember, “You…carried me to bed.”

 

He nodded, “And you told me that I was your big bad wolf.”

 

She smiled, “I meant it as a compliment.”

 

“I know,” he said, “And a couple of weeks ago, before we argued, you told me that I was Sansa’s strength. That she needed both of us. And then I read your essays and I realised that you were wrong. You are all the strength Sansa ever needed. You are all the strength the people you are going to work with will ever need. But… I… I can be yours.” She opened her mouth as if to say something and then looked down at the figure and smiled, “I just thought you could put it on your desk and it’d be there… you know on the hard days.”

 

She stepped towards him and put her hands on his shoulders and stood on her tip toes. For a moment he thought she might kiss him on the lips but she pressed one to his cheek instead. It was soft, and lingering and had its own kind of sweetness.

 

“I love it, and you,” she said, “Thank you.”

 

“I love you too,” he told her and opened his mouth to tell her just how much, because he couldn’t take it any longer, but her phone started beeping.

 

“Do you mind grabbing that? It’s just my timer telling me it’s time to baste but it drives Lady batty,” she told him and he nodded, going to the counter and grabbing her phone.

 

He tried not to look as she bent over towards the oven and focused on turning off the timer.

 

“You have a text,” he told her, “The number isn’t saved.”

 

“Oof,” she said, pulling the oven rack out a bit, “Do you mind reading it? 2253.”

 

He entered her passcode and pressed on the message.

 

_Hey Myrcella, it’s Jon, I think you’re expecting my text? Anyway, I’ve heard great things about you and would love to see them in person. Maybe this Friday?_

 

“Jon wants to see you this Friday,” he told her.

 

“Jon? Who is -,” she stopped and looked over at him, closing the oven.

 

She took the phone from him and read the message and closed out of it without responding.

 

“Blind date?,” he wondered.

 

She looked down at her feet and nodded, “Yeah it’s been a while…. since I’ve dated I mean. I’m sure it will be nothing you know, I’m not even sure if I want to go -“

 

“You should,” he found himself saying, like a fucking idiot.

 

She glanced at him and then over at the kitchen table. He followed her eyes to the wolf sitting there proudly.

 

“You think so?,” she asked.

 

_I want to be friends again. I want this weirdness to go away._

 

“Yeah, I mean, at least think about it. You never know what could come of it, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if any of ya'll are still with me, but we've finally caught up to 'Love is Blind (and sometimes, Deaf and Dumb too)' because I need these babies to smooch.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this one. In this chapter I've caught up to the original one shot and I've decided to end it here because I don't have anywhere else I'd like to take it.

“This is a mistake,” she sighed as she looked in the mirror.

 

Sansa came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her, “It’s not.”

 

Ella shook her head, “I’m… I’m out of practice, I haven’t been on a date since…”

 

“Dickon?,” Sansa supplied.

 

“That wasn’t a date,” she corrected.

 

Sansa smirked, “Try telling him that. And besides, the only way to get back _into_ practice is by practicing. Isn’t it better that you’re working the kinks out on someone you don’t have a stake in yet?”

 

There was no arguing with Sansa. She was the smartest person she’d ever met.

 

Instead she leaned back into her embrace, “Gilly says he’s kind. He doesn’t deserve to be my practice dummy.”

 

Sansa grinned and squeezed her, “Trust me, love, you in this dress - I’m sure he’ll be just about anything you want him to be.”

 

Ella smiled and let out a shaky breath, smoothing the dress in question. They were going to The Oak, a restaurant in their neighbourhood that she’d been avoiding since it opened.

 

She preferred their tried and true locals to the onslaught of flashy restaurants opening seemingly every day in the area.

 

If Jon Snow was the type that liked these restaurants, what would they have in common?

 

She still couldn’t quite believe that she had agreed to this date. Gilly and Sam had come home from their date last week and Sam had proposed it. Though he was looking at Gilly all the while making it clear that it was in fact her idea.

 

Jon was apparently his new commander, new to the area, and if they were to be believed - the best and noblest person to have ever existed.

 

Sam had broached the idea and then gone to check on Sammy and Gilly had come to join her on the couch.

 

_I’m all for true love, but if it’s truly unrequited with Robb, then I’d settle for you just being happy. With someone who knows what he has when he has you. Just give Jon a chance - unless of course, you’ve changed your mind about Dickon?_

 

That word, _unrequited_ , had tossed around in her mind all night, and she’d woken on Sunday morning determined. Her conversation with Robb had proven how much she needed him in her life, how much he wanted her in his. He loved her, madly, that much was clear, and if she’d only give up on it turning into something romantic it would be easier for both of them.

 

She’d agreed for Gilly to give her number to Jon and when he’d texted when Robb was there, his reaction had sealed it.

 

She sat on Sansa’s bed and smiled when she felt her friend brushing her hair. Her mother had never done it when she was a child, but her au pair had and she’d always loved the sensation.

 

“What are you going to do tonight?,” she asked Sansa.

 

“I think I’m going to go out,” Sansa said and she could hear the grin in her voice.

 

“Really?,” she asked, “That’s great - with who?”

 

“Myself,” Sansa informed her, “I think I’ll end up at The Forge eventually but… I might go to Saffron + Poppy for a cocktail first.”

 

Ella turned around and looked at her, her cheeks hurting from smiling so wide, “Really?,” Sansa nodded and she wrapped her arms around her, “I’m so proud of you, Dovey.”

 

“It’s time,” Sansa said, “Don’t you think?”

 

She nodded into her and then pulled away, “Well are you sure you don’t want to go on my date for me?”

 

Sansa snorted and shook her head, “Nope, I don’t think Jon Snow is the one for me. Guess you’ll just have to fall in love with him instead.”

 

Ella sighed and nodded, getting off the bed and walking back to the mirror. She slipped on the strappy shoes she’d chosen and fastened her ruby earrings.

 

“You look gorgeous,” Sansa said, “You really do. But I know something Jon doesn’t know yet. It’s your heart that is the most stunning thing about you, El. Remember that.”

 

_Your face would be the loveliest thing this world has ever seen if it wasn’t for this heart of yours._

 

She tried to smile and look at her phone, but there were no messages. She tried not to, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s Robb tonight?”

 

Sansa was silent for a moment and Ella tried to glance at her innocently.

 

“I don’t know what he’s doing tonight,” Sansa said, “Maybe its best if you don’t think about that…”

 

“I know, Jon deserves better,” she nodded, checking her clutch to make sure she had everything.

 

“No, love,” Sansa argued, “You deserve better.”

 

“He’s the best man I know,” Ella scoffed, “The best man _you_ know.”

 

“He is,” Sansa agreed, “He is my brother, he is the best man I know, and I love him more than almost anyone - but you deserve better than what he’s given you.”

 

“He doesn’t owe me anything,” she reminded her.

 

Sansa looked at her as though she was going to argue. Instead she gave her a soft smile and got off the bed, crossing to her and taking her hands in hers.

 

“I know that they say Jon is a good guy, but… you’ll call me, if you need anything?,” Sansa asked. Ella nodded, “Promise me.”

 

“I promise,” Ella said.

 

Sansa smiled, “Good, now go fall in love with Jon Snow for the both of us.”

 

***

 

“ _Thank_ you, I’m so sorry to call,” Gilly said as she stood in the doorway of her upstairs bathroom.

 

He shook his head and twisted the screwdriver, “It’s no big deal, Gilly. I don’t mind at all. Plus, no plumber was going to be available on a Friday night…”

 

He double checked to make sure everything was secure and then he stood up and turned on the faucet again. The sink sputtered for a moment and some really ugly water came out, but after a few seconds it started running smoothly and clear.

 

“Ta-da,” he gestured, squirting some hand soap into his hands and running them under the water.

 

“You are the best, Stark,” she grinned happily, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you. Have you eaten?”

 

He shook his head, he’d come straight from work, “No, not yet.”

 

“Alright, come on, I’ve got tons of food in the fridge and Sam’s gone until Sunday,” she said.

 

He looked at her, and gave her his best smoulder, “Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Tarly?”

 

Her wide eyes went wider for a moment before she threw her head back and laughed, “You are absolutely irresistible, Stark. But unfortunately no. Good to know your weaknesses though.”

 

He chuckled and said, “Speaking of…,” as little Sammy wandered up behind her. He knelt down and looked into the little boy’s blue eyes, “Hi buddy.”

 

Sammy grinned and stepped forward, arms out, so he picked him up and settled him on his hip.

 

Gilly looked at them and grinned, “You really are irresistible, come on, let’s get you some lasagna.”

 

He groaned and nodded, “Yes, let’s.”

 

They walked down the stairs and he started to trot down them, making Sam let out his adorable little gurgle. He remembered going to the hospital to see him the day after he was born. He’d driven over with Sansa and Ella and the girls had practically melted into the floor upon seeing him. He hadn’t totally understood the appeal until he’d held him and Sam had gripped his finger.

 

And then an hour later he’d come back from the cafeteria with Sam to find Sansa on her phone in the hallway and Gilly asleep. Ella had been sitting with him at the window, framed in the sunlight coming through it, a small, consistent smile on her face as she looked down at him.

 

He’d never understood the phrase _weak in the knees_ until that moment.

 

He wondered if there was a single thing in this world that he couldn’t connect back to Ella somehow.

 

He walked into the kitchen and placed Sammy in his chair at the kitchen island, pulling over a few blocks for him to stack as Gilly went to the fridge.

 

“So, what were your plans for this evening before I commandeered you?,” she asked as she pulled out a tray of lasagna.

 

“Didn’t really have one,” he shrugged.

 

She pulled out a bowl of salad and showed it to him and he nodded and she said, “What’s that like? I feel like I know where I’ll be at every single moment…”

 

He grinned, “Yeah but you were always a planner. You used to schedule _have fun_ in your calendar in college…”

 

She chuckled, “I had to, otherwise I never would have,” she glanced at him as she cut the lasagna and then away quickly, “So um, what’s Ella doing tonight?”

 

His cheeks reddened, “That’s awfully specific…”

 

She shrugged and put the dish in the microwave, “Just curious…”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her, “We never really talked about it. That night… I mean…”

 

“The one where you confessed having been in love with her for at least the past six months if not your entire life?,” Gilly asked, and then turned to him innocently, “Is that the night you’re talking about?”

 

“Yes that’s the night I’m talking about,” he returned snarkily.

 

“It wasn’t entirely new information,” Gilly said gently.

 

He nodded, “Everyone seems to see it. Except for her.”

 

“Well…,” Gilly said, “Have you ever considered that she’s the only one you’re hiding it from?”

 

The microwave dinged and Gilly grabbed out the plate and filled it up with salad and handed it to him along with a fork. She didn’t press the issue, she just let him dig in. That had always been one of his favorite things about her, she had always been so gentle.

 

“This is delicious,” he told her before he had another bite.

 

She smiled and knocked over Sam’s blocks. Her son looked at her with a look of surprise and she gave him one back and he let out a cry of laughter as though no on in the history of the world had ever done anything quite so shocking.

 

He grinned and continued eating.

 

“I was going to tell her, last Sunday,” he said, “But she got a text from this guy. He wanted to take her out.”

 

Gilly turned away from him and started putting things away, “Oh really?,” she asked, “I mean, is that such a surprise? She looks like a supermodel and an angel got together and had a baby.”

 

He chuckled and then whimpered, because that had to be the most accurate summation he’d ever heard.

 

“No,” he said, “I’m not surprised, she gets hit on everywhere she goes I mean… Sansa’s fucking _doctor_ hit on her while she was in the emergency room with blood on her pajamas for godsake,” Gilly gave him a horrified look and he nodded, still remembering the tool. “But I just kind of… I don’t know, she always blows people off when they hit on her in person and this guy had her number…and she’d warned me a couple of weeks ago that… that she wasn’t going to stay single forever.”

 

She turned to him and raised her brows, “And you didn’t say _anything_? Robb she told you she’s been waiting for you.”

 

“What?,” he asked and shook his head, “No… no she was just… we were fighting because I thought she slept with Theon.”

 

“Why would you think that?,” Gilly wondered.

 

“Because we were really drunk,” he explained.

 

“And how many times in their lives do you think Theon and Ella have been drunk around each other?,” Gilly challenged, “You really thought they’d just… oh Robb. And then what happened?”

 

“She told me that she wasn’t a virgin,” he said.

 

Gilly chuckled, “Well, didn’t you suspect that? She dated Trystane for two years.”

 

He rubbed his forehead, “Yes, I mean I knew that but she said _I’m not a virgin and I’m not a nun and I’m not going to live like a nun forever_. So I don’t know, when I saw that text I realised that she’s open to -“

 

“Are you a fucking idiot?,” Gilly interrupted. “She told you that she didn’t sleep with Theon, and that she hasn’t been sleeping with anyone, but that she can’t live like that forever… why do you think she’d bother saying _any_ of that? What did you do when you saw the text?”

 

He bowed his head, “I told her to go for it.”

 

“Oh Robb, you beautiful, beautiful moron…”

 

***

 

Gilly had been right, Jon was handsome. Impossibly so. Tall and lean though it was obvious he spent quite a bit of time in the gym, with warm charcoal eyes and luscious black hair.

 

She hadn’t really wanted to go on this date, but Gilly had explained that Jon was new to town and hadn’t met many people yet, and it was just so impossible to disappoint her friend so she had agreed.

 

Plus when Robb had urged her to do it, it became pretty clear that it really was just friends between them.

 

“So what’s good here?,” he asked her.

 

“Your guess is as _good_ as mine,” she all but sighed and then blushed.

 

He looked at her and she opened her mouth to apologise but he asked, “You haven’t been here before?”

 

She shook her head, “No, have you?”

 

“God no,” he shook his head. “I just thought… well… Sam made it seem like this might be the type of place you’d go?”

 

“That’s because I know him through his brother Dickon who _loves_ these kind of places,” she told him, “I mean… not that I’m not delighted to be here with you but… $22 for spinach? Do you think they sautéed it in molten gold?”

 

“THAT’S WHAT I WAS WONDERING!, _”_ he all but shouted at her and then blushed. He gave her an _oh shit_ expression and she laughed. “I’m sorry, if I had known…”

 

She waved him off and said, “You tried to do what you thought would make me happy, don’t apologise for that. But um… well… it’s a little silly to sit here now knowing that neither of us want to be here… are you a good actor?”

 

“No,” he said automatically.

 

She laughed and nodded, “Alright, follow my lead, okay?” He nodded and she took a sip of water. She started fanning herself, “Is it…is it warm in here?”

 

“No…,” he said.

 

She pulled at her collar and fanned herself more deliberately, “Oh god, I’m really, oh _wow_ ,” she sighed and took deep gulping breaths.

 

“Myrcella, are you -“

 

“Have you all had a chance to review the wine list?,” a simpering voice cut in.

 

“Oh um, not yet,” Jon said to the waiter, but he was still looking in bewilderment at her.

 

She let out a little sigh and fanned herself more, “Honey I’m so sorry, I know it’s our anniversary but… I think I’m going to be sick…”

 

“Our what? _Ohh_ , okay, ummmmm should we ummm,” Jon mumbled.

 

He nearly made her lose it, he really was a terrible actor. It was like he had forgotten every word that ever existed. It was pretty cute.

 

“Can you take me home?,” she asked and then turned to the waiter and put on her most sincere, pained voice and said, “I’m so sorry… I’ve been looking forward to this for months…”

 

The waiter stepped away from her as though she might have the bubonic plague and mumbled something and walked away. Jon stood up and looked at her as though he didn’t know what to do and she reached her hand out to him with a roll of her eyes.

 

He helped her up and she all but fell into him and he lead her out of the restaurant. He made some apology to the maitre’d on the way out and when they got outside she couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“You’re terrible at that!,” she giggled.

 

“You’re so good at it!,” he laughed back, “Oh my god I honestly thought I was going to have to take you to the hospital. What is the matter with you?”

 

She chuckled and shrugged, “I _may_ have been the lead in my high school’s production of Romeo and Juliet, _no big deal_.”

 

He grinned and held up his hands, making a bowing gesture and he chuckled when she curtsied.

 

She felt a little bit like she was back in high school, or maybe even younger. There was something about Jon that made her feel like a little kid. He was just so _sturdy_ , and she couldn’t quite place why but she trusted him already.

 

The trouble was, she wasn’t attracted to him. She could really only see his beauty _objectively_ , it didn’t really have anything to do with her. Unlike Robb’s, who sometimes seemed to have been designed solely for the purpose of torturing her.

 

And here was Jon, gorgeous and sweet and a little bit awkward in the most adorable way, and she felt _nothing_. Or not nothing, but nothing _sexual_.

 

It was infuriating.

 

Even still, she knew that he was new in town and didn’t know many people so she plastered on her most dazzling smile and said, “So, where to next?”

 

“How about something a bit more… laid back?,” he suggested.

 

She was starving so she nodded, “Follow me, I know just the place.”

 

He put himself at her mercy and they walked through the posh neighbourhood to the outskirts of it, where her and Sansa’s favourite taco restaurant was. She asked him if he minded sitting at the bar and he shook his head and grinned when the owner came to greet them.

 

When they were situated he asked her again _What’s good here_? and she was actually able to make suggestions. He scoffed a bit at the sweet potato and black bean taco suggestion but finally acquiesced.

 

She noticed as they sipped their drinks that everything about him screamed _friendly_. From his posture to the tone of his voice. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, just to see if his eyes fell to her neck.

 

He merely grinned though and said, “I have no idea how you girls can do your hair without looking.”

 

She grinned and gestured to his, “Does yours require constant attention?”

 

He blushed but grinned and shook his head, “You have _no_ idea.”

 

She chuckled as their food arrived. They’d gotten a bunch of different kinds of tacos, plus chips and guacamole, and they set about the very serious business of divvying it out. She bit into a fish taco and nearly moaned it was so good, munching on it happily as Jon devoured his carne asada.

 

There were almost no tacos left except for the sweet potato one and she raised her eyebrow at him. He narrowed his eyes at her and she looked at him stubbornly.

 

He grabbed it and took a bite.

 

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” he moaned.

 

She grinned and nudged his calf with her foot, “I _told_ you.”

 

“I’ll never doubt you again, you can make all my decisions for me going forward,” he promised as he took another bite.

 

She did a little celebratory shimmy, because she really did love to be right. And there really was something about him.

 

“Well, Gilly was right,” she grinned at him.

 

“Was she? What’d she say?,” he asked curiously.

 

“That you were kind,” she informed him, she gave a little wave of her hand and promised, “I mean she said other things too, but the kindness thing is really all I cared about…”

 

He grinned and teased, “You weren’t worried I’d have boils or something?”

 

She giggled and shook her head, and her eyes flashed to his and found them on her, waiting. He was so sturdy, it felt like she could tell him anything and he’d still be right there. Which was ridiculous, because they’d only just met.

 

Even still, her hunches were rarely wrong so she explained, “The thing is I’ve seen what happens when a man _isn’t_ kind, so kindness goes quite a long way - has a way of hiding boils and all the rest.”

 

He seemed to understand immediately, and his whole body language changed. She could see it all over his face, his surprise, his anger.

 

And the way he pulled back from it so as not to scare her, “I’m sorry… I’m trying to have an appropriate reaction to that and it’s proving a little difficult.”

 

She shook her head and placed her hand on his forearm, “No I’m sorry, it’s not really first date talk, is it? I just… I don’t know… I trust you? Am I totally mucking this up?”

 

He shook his head, “No, no of course not. I don’t really care a wit for first date chat I just… the thought of someone hurting you is killing me a bit.”

 

Her body filled with warmth. He really was one of the good ones, “Not me, my best friend. Which is worse, I think.”

 

“She’s lucky to have you,” he said.

 

She smiled and shook her head, “Trust me… I’m the lucky one.”

 

“If that’s the case, she must be quite a girl…,” he chuckled.

 

It was almost too obvious. She could see it all play out in her head like a movie. The kind that girls would go to in droves, watch on sleepovers and rainy days and anytime they were feeling a bit down.

 

All she had to do was rip off the band-aid and it would all be possible.

 

“Jon…,” she started.

 

“Myrcella…,” he said back.

 

“I have to tell you something,” she sighed.

 

He gulped adorably and nodded bravely, “Okay.”

 

She took his hand in hers and took a deep breath, “You are not attracted to me.”

 

His eyes got comically large and he sputtered, “What? I mean…how did… how do….I mean…”

 

She couldn’t help but smile, and squeeze his hand, “It’s okay, I’m not attracted to you either.”

 

“You aren’t?,” he asked, a wide grin on his face.

 

She shook her head, “Not even a little bit!”

 

“Oh my god, I thought I was going _crazy_ , but there is nothing here, is there?,” he asked excitedly.

 

“Nothing!,” she exulted.

 

They both seemed to realise at the same time how utterly crazy it was to be celebrating this fact.

 

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, you are… _beautiful_ ,” he said.

 

“I know,” she grinned. He chuckled and shook his head and she said, “So are you. And I really _like_ you… I just don’t _like you like you_.”

 

“I like you so much!,” he told her.

 

“Can we be friends? But not in the way people say it? I’m pretty sure I want to spend a lot of my time with you,” she confessed.

 

He looked at her earnestly and said, “Hear me, and hear me well… I want to hang out in my sweatpants with you.”

 

She adopted a solemn look as well and said, “I want to watch bad tv with you.”

 

His brow furrowed, “Why can’t we watch good tv?”

 

She slammed her drink down and pointed at him, “For the friendship Jon!”

 

He slammed his down as well and held out his hand, “For the friendship.”

 

She grinned and shook it, and even though it was silly, it felt like a promise, and he didn’t seem like the sort to make promises he didn’t keep.

 

Any remnants of awkwardness dissipated then as they each sipped their drinks. She grabbed her phone and asked him if he minded and he waved her off so she texted part two of her plan.

 

“Can I loosen this then?,” he asked, gesturing to his tie as she sent the message.

 

“Take it offff I feel suffocated just looking at you,” she teased.

 

He took his tie off and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt. He already seemed to breath easier and she gestured to the bartender for another round.

 

Her phone beeped and she glanced at it.

 

“What’d you have another date in the works in case this is how things went?,” he joked.

 

She chuckled, “In what world could I have predicted _this_ is the way things would go? No, some of my friends are at this pub The Forge? My brother Gendry owns it, want to go meet them after this round?”

 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

 

“You’re not, I’m inviting you. Plus you’re new here, and they’re really nice people. Well, except Theon but we love him anyway. Come onnnn Jon Snow, take a chance…”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her and said, “People don’t say no to you often, do they?”

 

_Help me then._

 

_Ellie…_

 

She shook her head and lied, “Never. So don’t screw up my track record. Come on, please? I double dog dare you!”

 

“Why not?,” he asked, “It’s just a drink, right?”

 

She picked up her phone, wiggling in excitement and texted her best friend back.

 

_See you soon, Dovey! Bringing Jon with me, you’re going to love him…_

 

She grinned at Jon and shrugged, “For starters, anyway.”

 

***

 

He’d left Gilly’s about an hour earlier and had gone home to let Grey Wind out and to change. He’d put on a light blue button up that Ella seemed to like and a pair of khakis and boat shoes.

 

He’d grabbed a bottle of the wine that Ella had introduced them to and walked the few blocks over to her house. It was dark, but the girls could be upstairs so he knocked.

 

He heard Lady barking but nothing else so he used his key.

 

“Sansa, El?,” he called, but there was no answer.

 

It was a good thing, he told himself. For months, almost a year, they could always be found at home on Friday night. But they were supposed to be out. They shouldn’t be spending every night in, watching old movies.

 

 _Waiting_.

 

He grabbed his phone and saw that he in fact had a text from Sansa: _I’m heading to The Forge, come meet me?_

 

He noticed that it didn’t say _we_ but that was okay. He’d waited his whole life to tell Ella, he could wait another night, and the idea of spending a night out with his sister was the best consolation prize he could imagine.

 

He texted back _Be there soon, at your house to drop something off. Want me to let out Lady_?

 

She texted about a hundred heart emojis so he took that as a yes and let Lady out in the backyard. Now that he was here, he actually did want to see if he’d left a book here, so he ran up to his old room to check.

 

He couldn’t find it there so he went into Sansa’s room. He smirked when he saw all of the clothes discarded on her bedroom floor. She was usually pretty neat, except when she was deciding what to wear. It had driven their mother crazy when Sansa was in high school.

 

He didn’t see it in there either, so he went up to Ella’s room. He felt a bit weird going in there without her permission, but the door was wide open and it wasn’t like he was going to go through her drawers or anything.

 

He walked in and smiled when he saw the vase of hydrangeas on her desk. Everything was in it’s proper place, she was a bit of a neat freak, but it didn’t feel cold or austere, there were personal touches everywhere.

 

He looked at her night table and saw the book he was looking for sitting on it. He wasn’t going to take it, not if she was in the middle of reading it, but then he saw what was sitting next to it.

 

He went over and sat on her bed and picked up the little wolf figurine. He’d made it in his dad’s old workshop. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told her that last week.

 

He liked that she placed it on her night table, facing towards her, as though it was watching over her. It was silly, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it.

 

He saw something poking out of the book and he picked it up and opened it. It was a photo, on the back, in Sansa’s elegant scrawl it said _Robby and Ella, Summer 2009._

 

He turned it over and smiled at the picture. They were up at his family’s lake house, on his Dad’s old boat. It was a couple of summers before he died, he would have been seventeen. He looked younger.

 

He and Ella were in bathing suits, water still dripping off of them. He had one hand on his hip and his other arm wrapped around her slender shoulders. They were both beaming, but while he was looking at the camera, she was looking up at him.

 

 _She told you she’s been waiting for you_.

 

He placed the photo back as gingerly as he could, which was difficult because his hands were shaking. He could no longer deny what he had been denying for so long, refusing to see.

 

She loved him, it was entirely possible that she loved him as much as he loved her.

 

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled her number. It was one of the only ones he knew by heart.

 

_Hi, you’ve reached Myrcella, leave me a message!_

 

“Ellie, hey it’s me, um Robb. Look I… I made a mistake… a lot of mistakes actually, but I don’t think you should go on that date. I… I’m at your house but you’re not here, I’m going to go meet Dovey at The Forge. Meet me there, if you get this, okay? I… I really need to talk to you, sweetheart.”

 

He hung up and ran down the stairs and let Lady back in. He ran out and grabbed a taxi. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was so manic but it was like his world had been sent into hyperdrive.

 

 _She loves me, she loves me, she loves me_.

 

He had known it, kind of. But now he knew. And all he wanted in the world was to tell her that he loved her back.

 

He checked his phone, but he didn’t have any calls or texts. His leg was restless and he opened up the window to try to get some fresh air.

 

_You’re my big bad wolf._

 

_I wish that neither of us was here, but I’m glad to be here with you._

 

_I’m just going to miss you, that’s all._

 

_Given your behaviour lately, I can’t imagine that could possibly matter to you._

 

_Welcome home, Robb._

 

_What if I said I trust you now?_

 

The fresh air wasn’t helping, he felt dizzy. He checked his phone again, but nothing.

 

This was crazy, he’d waited a lifetime and now it felt like if he didn’t see her in the next minute he might actually die. He thought about that Harry and Sally movie that Sansa always made him watch. That line at the end.

 

_When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible._

 

He chuckled to himself. He was quoting romantic comedies. He was such an idiot.

 

The taxi pulled up in front of The Forge and he paid the driver and got out. It was crowded inside, but he knew where he’d find Sansa, so he walked through to the end of the long bar.

 

He found her sitting with Theon, wearing a backless navy blue dress.

 

“Woah, Dovey,” he said.

 

“God it’s like none of you have ever seen a dress before,” Sansa blushed.

 

Robb chuckled and shook his head, “Calling that a _dress_ is like calling the Titanic a yacht.”

 

Sansa grinned and shrugged, taking a sip of her lemon drop martini. He nodded at Theon who nodded back.

 

“Is it just us tonight?,” he wondered, accepting the glass of whiskey Gendry handed to him.

 

Sansa nodded, “Yeah, everyone’s busy tonight. Marg is on a date too, I guess love is in the air…,” she finished glumly.

 

“Who else is on a date?,” Robb wondered.

 

“Did you not see?,” Theon asked and Robb shook his head. Theon and Sansa shared a look and he wondered briefly if his ex-Roslin was here. It wouldn’t be unlike her to bring a date where she knew he’d be. “Um, El’s here… with a date.”

 

“Myrcella? Myrcella _Baratheon_?,” Robb questioned.

 

“How many other Myrcella’s do you know?,” Theon reasoned.

 

“Where is she?,” Robb asked in annoyance, scanning the crowd.

 

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

 

He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed her when he walked in. He could swear that he had a radar for her, he was a moth to her irresistible flame.

 

And now he understood why she hadn’t called him back.

 

She looked beautiful, heartbreakingly so. She wasn’t wearing make-up, she hated it and didn’t need it anyway, and she’d thrown her hair up in an adorable ponytail, revealing her elegant neck. Her sleeveless black dress showed off her slender arms and it flared out dramatically, a pair of strappy heels making her toned legs look edible.

 

He’d seen her only yesterday at the gym in a pair of jogging shorts and an old rugby shirt of Gendry’s and he’d nearly fainted at the sight of her but this was something else entirely.

 

She was with some guy who was annoyingly good looking. He had on a button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up.

 

They were at the pool table and Ella was behind him, guiding him, her golden ponytail falling on the guys arm as her head fell on his shoulder. They were both grinning in an obnoxiously adorable way, like they were in some commercial for a dating app.

 

“Who the fuck’s that?,” Robb asked.

 

“Jon Snow,” Sansa said with a whimper.

 

_Jon wants to see you on Friday night._

 

He was such an idiot. If he had known that Jon looked like that and could make her smile like that, he never would have said that she should go. There was something in Sansa’s tone though that made him turn away from the bloodbath in front of him and look at her.

 

“Sansa’s got a bit of a crush,” Theon explained, “OW!”

 

Sansa had kicked him in the shin, “I do not!”

 

“Jon Snow, huh?,” Robb grimaced.

 

He was making Ella smile giddily and Sansa very obviously had a crush on him, and Robb didn’t like it. This guy must be a player. A real Don Juan.

 

That just didn’t sit right with him. Nope, not one bit. And it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he had planned on confessing his love tonight.

 

Nope. He just didn’t like the look of him. A _shady character_ if there ever was one. Yep. This guy had to go. He had to _go_.

 

“I think I’ll go introduce myself,” Robb said.

 

“By all means, I’ll just be here, drinking my sorrows until I finally decide to go home with Theon as a way to forget,” Sansa groaned.

 

“SHE’LL HAVE ANOTHER,” Theon called to Gendry.

 

“ONLY GIVE HER WATER FROM NOW ON!,” Robb corrected, even though he was pretty sure that Theon would be ending up with Shireen at the end of the night.

 

He wasn’t supposed to know that though so he waited for Gendry to nod at him before he walked away. He made his way through the bar until finally he got to the pool table.

 

Ella was thankfully no longer showing Jon how to play, but unfortunately she was taking her turn and was bent over the table. He wanted to push the silk of her dress up and take her right then and there. He wanted to get down on his knees and bury his face in her. He wanted to -

 

She snapped up, as though she sensed him and turned around, “Robb! I didn’t know you were here…”

 

“Clearly,” he snapped at her.

 

He knew that was unfair. She didn’t owe him anything. In fact, he was the one who had convinced her to go on this date.

 

Even still, she was the future mother of his children and he’d really appreciate it if she started acting like it.

 

“What?,” she asked in confusion.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he shook his head. He glanced at her date, “Robb Stark.”

 

Jon walked leisurely around the pool table. It wasn’t exactly a _strut_ but it wasn’t without a certain significance to it either. He stepped in front of Ella and held out his hand.

 

“Jon Snow,” he said with a grimace that he was trying to pass of as a smile.

 

Robb knew that’s what it was, because he was doing the exact same thing.

 

He shook his hand, and Jon shook it back. Firm grip. A worthy adversary.

 

“Are you guys going to make out?,” Ella asked after a few moments and Robb realised neither of them had let go.

 

“So how did you two meet?,” he asked Jon.

 

“Blind date,” Jon told him, then gave him an _aw shucks_ grin, “She’d never’ve agreed to go out with me if she knew what she was in for, would you, gorgeous?”

 

Ella looked at Jon in surprise and Jon looked at her with a grin. Ella’s eyes widened and she nodded and then smiled, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Jon’s arm.

 

“Well I don’t know about _that_ ,” she practically cooed at him. “But um… things have a way of working out, don’t they?”

 

“Guess so,” Jon grinned and then turned to him and said, “I mean, you’d have to be a fucking _idiot_ to meet a girl like her and look elsewhere, right?”

 

_He knows._

 

Robb wasn’t sure _how_ exactly, but Jon Snow knew. He knew and he was _taunting_ him with it.

 

_Well have you ever considered that she’s the only one you’re hiding it from?_

 

“I think I need another drink,” Jon said, as though he could leave Ella with him and it didn’t matter because nothing would happen. “Another margarita, gorgeous?”

 

“Yes please,” she beamed at him.

 

“I thought your drink was a martini?,” he asked her petulantly.

 

_Or that special red that I left a bottle of on your counter._

 

Ella looked at him and shrugged, “Out with the old, in with the new.”

 

Jon grinned as though he very much liked the sound of that.

 

***

 

Robb was acting strange, kind of like the night she’d gone to that benefit with Dickon but worse, somehow. He looked almost manic.

 

“Are you alright?,” she wondered.

 

He turned to look at her, his gaze falling down her body. It set her on fire and she had to look away as his gaze came back to her eyes. He nodded.

 

“Have you checked your phone, recently?,” he asked.

 

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head, “No I left my bag with Dovey… Why?”

 

“I tried calling you,” he practically spat at her, “I was looking for my book, Aegon’s Travels. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

 

She blushed and turned away from him, taking a shot and missing horribly.

 

“Oh um… yeah, I grabbed it from the living room I think,” she lied, “It’s good… stop by tomorrow and I’ll give it back to you.”

 

“You’re reading it?,” he asked, stepping closer to her.

 

She turned to him and nodded, “A chapter before bed each night… it’s been helping me sleep.”

 

His eyes softened, “I didn’t realise you were still having trouble.”

 

She fidgeted and his eyes fell to her hands so she forced herself to stop.

 

“Yeah well now that it’s just -,” she started and his eyes flashed to hers and she stopped herself and looked away.

 

“Just what?,” he asked, and she ignored him stupidly, as though he wasn’t a dog with a bone. As though he might let it go. She felt his hand on her arm, turning her gently, “Now that it’s just what?”

 

She sighed, “I don’t want to make you feel guilty.”

 

“Ellie so help me god…,” he said, “Just tell me, please.”

 

“Well…,” she sighed, “Ever since… everything… I always had you and Grey Wind… in the house with us… and even when you left, I had Grey Wind and now… it’s stupid, I’m a grown woman and I am fine I’ve just been having some dreams again and…”

 

“Did you try warm milk with cinnamon?,” he asked softly.

 

“That stuff is disgusting,” she lamented and he chuckled. She looked up at him, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I know that I have to be stronger and I will be I just -“

 

“I told you I’d be your strength,” he interrupted.

 

It was the sort of thing that coming from anyone else she might have found insulting, but from him just felt comforting. He was her strength, and she knew that she had been his. They needed each other.

 

And he was looking down at her like they might just love each other too.

 

She opened her mouth to ask but Theon came over and challenged her to a game.

 

She looked over at the bar and smiled when she saw Sansa and Jon talking. Her plan was working perfectly, they had been goners for one another since the moment they met.

 

She glanced at Robb’s hand, which was still on her arm, and he dropped it and stepped away from her so they could all rerack.

 

Theon broke and took a shot. She wanted to ask him about Shireen, but couldn’t in front of Robb. For some reason they wanted the relationship to be a secret for the moment.

 

She’d given Shireen the rundown on Theon, telling her that he was a player but explaining that it was because of something else. To her surprise, Shireen had already known about his feelings for Sansa.

 

She’d already known everything that had happened, from her, but Theon had filled her in as well.

 

_I know he has a past, but so do I. He’s a good man, I know it._

 

_He is. One of the best, really._

 

“Holy shit,” Theon said.

 

“What?,” she and Robb asked in tandem.

 

“Well,” Theon said and pointed towards the bar.

 

She looked and saw Jon cupping Sansa’s face and kissing her like the world was ending as Sansa had her arms wrapped around his back, holding him firmly against her.

 

“YAY DOVEYYYYYYY!!!!!,” she couldn’t help but shout, jumping up and down and doing a shimmy.

 

Sansa hadn’t wanted anyone near her in a year. It had taken so long before even Robb could hug her and now here she was sucking face with an adorable human and it was just so perfect she could cry.

 

Actually, she did kind of.

 

“What a dick, El are you okay - oh my god you’re crying, I’m going to murder him,” Robb sighed.

 

“What? No, I’m just _happy_ for her,” she said and shook her head, “She’s just come so far and she’s just _so stro—ong_.”

 

“I know, I know,” Robb nodded and pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t help but burrow into his chest a little. He smelled like clean laundry and him and his arms felt like the safest place in the world. Even though at times they were the most dangeous. He rubbed her back, “Even still I’m going to murder him for doing this to you.”

 

“NO,” Theon shouted before she could protest. They both turned to look at him and he placed the pool stick down on the table, “I’m so fucking sick of this shit, I’m going home.”

 

“What? Why?,” Robb asked.

 

Theon rubbed his forehead as though long suffering, “Because all I wanted to do was come out and have a few beers, maybe chat up a hot girl, take her home, having some boring missionary sex and then fall asleep on top of her,” he was really overselling this still single thing, “Because it’s been a long week and I’m exhausted, but then you all show up with your star-crossed lovers bullshit and I’m just… I’m just _over_ it, okay? I am DONE!”

 

“Theon!,” she chastised, “What has gotten into you? Did you skip dinner?”

 

“When was the last time you ate?,” Robb asked, and then looked at her, “Sansa really should have made sure he got some protein in him before drinking…”

 

She nodded and looked at Theon, “Want me to ask Hot Pie to make you a burger? Would that make you feel better?”

 

“Would that make me feel better?,” Theon asked her incredulously and she nodded, “Would that make me _feel_ better? YES I THINK IT WOULD THANK YOU ELLA.”

 

“Why are you still shouting at me?,” she asked him.

 

“BECAUSE I AM VERY ANNOYED BUT I’M ALSO VERY HUNGRY,” he kept shouting. “No pickles.”

 

“O…kay, I’ll be right back,” she told him and removed herself from Robb’s arms.

 

“No,” Theon shook his head, “You stay. I’ll go order. And Ella?”

 

“Yeah, Theon?,” she wondered, looking at him warily. He got a little unpredictable when he was hungry. “Robb’s in love with you too.”

 

With that he sprinted away and left her and Robb staring at one another.

 

He must have been starving, because she never would have predicted Theon would say that.

 

***

 

It was a shame she’d given up acting in high school, she had one of the most expressive faces he’d ever seen. The subtleties of it, the way the slight shift of her eyes told you everything.

 

“He’s so weird when he’s hungry,” she joked.

 

“Yeah,” Robb nodded, “So weird. El -“

 

“I need some air,” she said and with that she set her pool stick down and walked through the bar.

 

He wasn’t entirely sure if she wanted him to follow her or not, but he looked towards the bar and found that Sansa and Jon had finally stopped kissing. He walked towards them.

 

“Sansa,” he said.

 

“Sorry,” she said happily, “That you had to see that,” she grinned and hugged Jon to her, “But um… not really that sorry.”

 

He chuckled and nodded, because no matter what else was happening he was so happy to see her happy.

 

“Where’s Ella?,” Jon asked.

 

“Bold of you to ask,” Robb said, “Given where your tongue just was.”

 

“Robb!,” Sansa admonished, which was fair because Jon definitely wasn’t the reason Ella had left.

 

Jon chuckled, “Come on man, are you being deliberately obtuse or did Sansa actually get all the brains in your family?”

 

“A little bit of column A, little bit of column B, most likely,” Sansa answered for him and Jon grinned and kissed her hair.

 

“Theon said _Robb’s in love with you too_ and then walked away and then she said she needed air and I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

 

“Go after her,” they said in tandem. His eyes widened, and Sansa added, “Go! You’ve been in love with her since I don’t know how long and she loves you, of course she does, so _go_. Get the girl, or I’ll be forced to murder you for hurting my best friend…”

 

He didn’t need anymore than that and he raced through the bar and walked outside. He looked to his left and didn’t see her.

 

“What did he mean?,” he heard a shaky voice ask behind him.

 

He whipped around and saw her standing there, her eyes wide and her arms crossed in front of her. She looked so defiant and so beautiful. Hopeful and terrified in equal measure.

 

This wasn’t how he had imagined it. He wasn’t sure what his plan was going to be if she’d shown up here tonight after receiving his message, but he knew it wasn’t Theon blurting out that he was in love with her.

 

 _There’s no wrong way to tell her_.

 

So he admitted, “He was right about me,” and had to ask, “Was he right about you?”

 

“Robb…,” she demurred.

 

“No,” he shook his head, “I can’t believe I’m saying this again but Theon is right. Enough is enough. I _love_ you, Myrcella Baratheon. I’ve loved you for so long now and I’m going to love you for the rest of my life, that’s just the way it is. So all I need to know is, was he right about you?”

 

“Of course he was right,” she whimpered. “But Robb… what about…”

 

“What about _what_?,” he asked, crossing the distance to her. He bent his knees so he was at eye level with her and took her face in his hands, “I love you, and you love me and there is no reason in the world that we shouldn’t be together.”

 

He pressed his lips to hers and she melted against him. He couldn’t believe he had waited so long, it didn’t make any sense. If he’d known that this is what it would feel like he would have kissed her when they were kids. He never would have dated Jeyne or Roslin. She’d never have dated Trystane. They’d never have looked at anyone else.

 

“What about my date?,” she teased when they pulled apart.

 

He chuckled, “Your date is in there making out with my sister…”

 

She grinned, leaning up and kissing him once more, as though she couldn’t help it. He kissed her, wrapping her in his arms, and bending her backwards, holding her steady as she clung to him.

 

When they broke the kiss she leaned her forehead against his and smiled, “Sam and Gilly are going to be _so_ disappointed.”

 

“GILLY SET YOU UP WITH JON?,” he practically shouted at her, “She knows how I feel about you…”

 

Ella’s brow furrowed adorably and she said, “That’s odd actually, she knows how I feel about you…”

 

“Guys,” they heard a voice from behind them and he turned to find Sansa and Jon there, “Check your phones…”

 

He and Ella took out their phones and Ella gasped and then covered her mouth in a giggle. Robb chuckled and shook his head, “You get one of these too?”

 

Sansa and Jon nodded, identical grins on their faces.

 

_Robb, I’m so sorry. Gilly just confessed everything. I had NO idea about you and Ella and well, I am so sorry for my part in it. I really just wanted to help out my new Commander. I hope you can forgive me._

 

“Come on, let’s send her a picture,” Sansa urged and Jon groaned.

 

“Stop being such a spoil sport,” Ella urged him and he stuck his tongue out at her.

 

It was odd, it was like they’d known one another for years. And though he’d know her for years and was very used to her stubbornness, he sighed and came over and wrapped his arm around her.

 

Sansa got on his other side and Robb wrapped his arm around Ella’s waist and held his phone up to capture them all in a selfie.

 

 _“_ Say _idiots in love!,”_ Ella urged right before the flash went off.

 

***

 

“Cheers!,” they all said, as they clinked shot glasses.

 

She tossed back her whiskey and grimaced and Robb handed her a glass of water.

 

“Thanks,” she smiled up at him stupidly.

 

“You’re welcome,” he grinned down at her foolishly.

 

She kept her eyes on his as she took a sip of water and then handed it back to him. He had never been more handsome than he was in this moment, now that he was very possibly hers.

 

They hadn’t really talked about it, in all the excitement.

 

“Should we… go somewhere?,” she asked quietly.

 

“Yeah we should go um…,” he said, his eyes trailing to her lips and then back up, “Talk.”

 

She couldn’t help but smile and he grinned as well, automatically.

 

She turned and found Sansa talking excitedly and Jon looking at her with a look of wonder on his face. She stopped to watch for just a moment. It had been so long since she’d seen her so happy.

 

She patted Sansa’s arm and her friend turned to her, her eyes shining, “I think we were going to go…”

 

Sansa grinned and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her, “Thank you. For setting this up.”

 

“You’re okay on your own?,” she checked.

 

“Very okay,” Sansa promised.

 

She rubbed her back and kissed her cheek and then turned to Jon.

 

“You!,” she said and he blanched, “I’m very fond of you, Jon Snow. Don’t screw it up, alright?”

 

He could have laughed it off, but he didn’t. Instead he pulled her to him and gave her a hug, “I promise she’s safe with me. I swear it.”

 

“I believe you,” she said, “Wouldn’t leave her if I didn’t.”

 

She went to pull away and he held her to him, looking down at her, “And him? You’re sure?”

 

She looked over at Robb and saw him talking to Sansa, saying something to her earnestly that had her rolling her eyes.

 

She looked back at Jon, “I’m sure. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my whole life as I am of him.”

 

He nodded at her and released her and she waved at Gendry and walked back to Robb. She slipped her hand into his and he looked down at it and squeezed.

 

“Ready, sweetheart?,” he asked and she nodded dumbly.

 

He hailed them a taxi and gave the driver his address. She looked out the window so that he couldn’t see her grin and she felt his hand taking hers, as he slid next to her.

 

“Is that okay?,” he asked, “I just wanted somewhere private so we could talk…”

 

She turned to look at him and nodded, “Yeah, it’s perfect.”

 

Though it wasn’t really, because she didn’t just want to talk. He smiled at her though so she smiled back.

 

It was a short ride to his house and she got out as Robb paid the driver. They walked up his front steps.

 

“Brace yourself,” he warned as he unlocked the door, and she already hearing Grey Wind barking.

 

She did a mock athletic stance and he chuckled, placing his hand on the small of her back as he opened up the door. To her surprise, Grey Wind treated her with a bit of decorum and only nuzzled against her, his tail thwacking the doorway.

 

They got inside easily enough and Grey Wind trotted down the hallway.

 

Now that she was here, she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. So she turned to look at him and he rubbed his cheek.

 

“I should let him out,” he told her.

 

She looked at him and nodded slowly, “I’ll um… just go freshen up?”

 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just down the -,” he started.

 

She placed her hand on his forearm, “I know where it is, Robb.”

 

“Right,” he smiled sheepishly, “I think I’m a little…”

 

“Nervous?,” she supplied and he nodded, so she smiled and said, “Thank god, me too.”

 

He let out a shaky breath and pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms around his back and looked up at him.

 

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time,” he said, “And I don’t want to screw it up.”

 

“I’ve wanted this for a really long time, too,” she said, “And I think we’ve both screwed it up by trying not to. I just… I’m really happy to be here with you.”

 

He traced her cheek with his knuckles and lifted her slightly to kiss her. His lips felt like they were designed for hers, and a warmth spread through her whole body.

 

He pulled away from her and cleared his throat, “I’ll uh… just go…”

 

She nodded and they released one another. He went to go let out Grey Wind and she went to the powder room. She tried to smell herself and she seemed fine, so she splashed some cold water on her face and washed her hands. She fluffed her ponytail a bit and took a deep breath and walked back out into the living room.

 

Grey Wind was standing there looking at her and she got on the floor and hugged him to her. He sat in her lap and she rubbed her face in his fur.

 

“I missed you so much, puppywuppy, did you miss me to?,” she wondered, “Did you? Did you?”

 

She hadn’t noticed that Robb had come back into the room until he chuckled and said, “You are so adorable.”

 

She looked at him and found him sitting on the arm of his couch. He looked gorgeous and she’d never wanted anyone so badly as him.

 

She stood up and looked at him, still petting Grey Wind, “What if I don’t want to be?”

 

He grinned, “Then you should take that up with your face, and your personality, and your general existence.”

 

She rolled her eyes and said, “When I look at you I don’t think _adorable_.”

 

“Thanks so much,” he deadpanned.

 

She smiled and crossed the distance between them. He opened his legs so that she could stand in between them and she rested her hands on his shoulders.

 

“That’s not what I mean,” she promised, “These curls, these blue eyes, the way you call your mom for literally _everything_ , adorable,” she said, rubbing her nose against his, “But when I see you… I don’t think _adorable_. I think… take me now.”

 

His mouth opened in surprise and turned into a smile halfway through, his cheeks colouring.

 

Which admittedly was pretty adorable.

 

She couldn’t really believe what she’d just said, but his reaction gave her the confidence to push herself out of his arms and reach behind her.

 

“So,” she said, taking hold of the zipper, “I guess what I’m asking,” and pulled it down, “Is… adorable what you think of when you see….me?”

 

With that she let the dress pool to her feet and closed her eyes.

 

“Take me now,” he breathed out.

 

She opened her eyes to look at him and couldn’t help but laugh. He grinned that confident smile at her and pulled her to him.

 

“Yes,” he said, his arm wrapped around her back, his hand on her cheek, “When I see you I am always going to think _adorable_ ,” he said and she opened her mouth to protest but he kissed her instead. She couldn’t help but melt against him. She hadn’t kissed him nearly enough times yet. He pulled away and she fought the urge to whimper, “And when I see you, I’m always going to think _beautiful_ ,” he said and tucked his head into her neck and pressed kisses to it. She arched her back and leaned her head back, granting him more access and he took full advantage. His hands moved down her body until they cupped her butt and he squeezed. She let out a surprised moan and he groaned and turned her around, pulling her against him, almost into his lap. He rested one hand on her thigh, and let the fingers of the other graze over her abdomen causing goosebumps to form. “And when I see you, _Ellie_ , I am always going to want you. Because you drive me crazy. You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known,” he pulled her against him more firmly and she could feel his hardness against her butt. He nibbled on her ear and she felt herself moisten, her head thrown back on his shoulder, “Can’t you feel that? How can you not understand how irresistible I find you?”

 

“Probably,” she said, feeling his hand cup her breast and she whimpered as she felt him drag his other hand up her thigh, “Because,” she went on, losing her train of thought as she felt his hand slipping into her underwear, “You’ve…”

 

“I’ve what?,” he breathed in her ear, letting out a satisfied breath when he cupped her and found her wet. She whimpered, pressing against his hand, because it had been too long since she’d been touched like this, and it was him. The only man she’d ever truly wanted. His sigh caught in his throat as he teased her clit with his finger and she felt a warm sensation in her stomach, biting her lip to keep from moaning. “Tell me.”

 

“Resisted me for years,” she finally managed to get out.

 

He kissed her cheek and her temple and removed his hand from her underwear which she wasn’t terribly pleased about.

 

“Not without great effort,” he said, turning her around. She kissed his jaw, grazing it with her teeth and he gripped her hips, his mouth at her ear, “You have no idea the filthy things I’ve wanted to do to you,” she _mmm_ ed and leaned into kiss him but he pulled back. She couldn’t help but pout, and she felt his finger under chin, tilting it upwards until she had to look at him, “Do you want me to show you?”

 

The heat in his eyes made every last shred of insecurity abandon her. Her eyes went wide and she nodded slowly.

 

“But?,” he asked with a small smile.

 

She blushed and leaned her head against his shoulder. He really did know her better than anyone.

 

He rubbed her back and she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, “But…maybe… just for tonight… you could just make love to me?”

 

His eyes moistened and he cleared his throat, “Yeah, sweetheart. Yeah, I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and I promise, they live happily ever after. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! xo

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you think!


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